The Blue Haired Girl and the War for Summer
by A Girl Has Many Names
Summary: While successfully helping Jon Snow returning to Westeros, Andie was accidentally arrived to the frosty plains of the north. How is she going to deal with the war? The dragons? The lack of tofu? With a song in her heart and as always, with the power of friendship! A sequal to Snow in New York, rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

 **Hi! So yes, I'm back with the sequal. I hope you're going to like it.**

 **Writing so many characters that are not mine is sooo challenging! But, you know me (ppf), I'm up for the challenge!**

 **Also, it might get a bit darker here, because in the world of Games of Thrones there is more chance of bad things to happen... but don't worry, there still will be some fun stuff and worlds-clashing moments.**

 **I want to thank all of the reviewers from Snow in New York, it really helped me to keep writing the sequal!**

 **Hope you'll enjoy!**

* * *

 _"I'm listening." I said. The people at the background shouted but I didn't care, I just gave him the best hug I could before he leaves and fades away._

 _But I didn't hear a question. The voices of the people that came to shoo us went dead. I looked up at Jon who just looked over my head, wide-eyed._

 _I took one step back, and felt a freezing wind like never before._

 _As far as my eyes could see, everything around me was white and snowy, while hard winds blew around us, carrying snowflakes and frost._

 _Holly FUCK._

* * *

I looked at Jon, who seemed terrified Just as I was. I turned around, to make sure what I saw is true. Snow, snow all around us. We were standing on a hill, I think, because I saw some trees far away beyond the snowflakes the wind carried. I thought I saw a big, strangely-shaped castle at the distance, but my eye sight started to become blurry. The cold took over me and I started to feel numb. I turned back to Jon, unable to open my mouth to say anything. I felt like I'm going to turn into an icicle there on the spot.

Jon shook away his shock and wrapped his cape around me, holding me tight and close to him, my cheek pressed against his chest plat. Maybe he said something, I'm not sure, because the winds were too strong and I started to give in to the cold.

The last thing I heard before losing consciousness completely was a shriek of an animal I've never heard before, and the short breaths of Jon who tried to keep me warm in his hands.

* * *

I rolled in my bed. It was soft and fluffy, and the only thing that was missing was Marilyn.

"Humph… cat, where are you?" I mumbled. When I didn't hear a response I half opened my eyes. I leaned on my elbows. "Cat?"

Something was weird about my room. I don't remember having a fireplace in it. I'm not in Danielle's mansion again, definitely not in New York. My vision cleared and I looked around.

 _Oh, fuck._

I looked down at the blankets-which now I understood why they were so fluffy. It looked like they were made out of different unlucky animals. I gulped and felt guilty for sleeping in it.

The room was about the size of what I had in New York, but it looked completely different.

First of all, the walls were made of stone-mostly grey and rough. The window was smaller, and covered with white and grey curtains. A small fireplace was burning in the wall in front of the wooden bed I was sleeping on. A big carpet-no, another animal's skin-was spread on the floor. My back pack was on the floor near a wooden chair covered with leather. I breathed out in relief that it came here with me.

Then I also saw my clothes folded next to it on the chair, including my Harley-Quinn sports bra.

I sucked some air in and looked at myself. It seems I was wearing some kind of a woolen grey sleeping gown.

I started to breath fast, my heart beating like crazy, as it dawned on me again. _No, no, no. Fuck no!_

I jumped out of the bed, surprised the floor was warm. I opened my bag and checked to see if everything was in there. I sighed in relief to find even my energy bars, so I took one and ate it hungrily. Alright, I need to find Jon. I need to find Bran, too.

Fuck, what the hell? Why the fuck am I here? Those damn gods or whatever didn't send Jon here until I decided to hug him.

Stupid gods.

Stupid Jon.

Stupid Kit Kat.

I looked around and found nothing more. I took off the gown to put on my sports bra. Yeah, my boobs aren't the biggest ones, but it made everything so much more comfortable to run with something to hold them. Also, now I had the Harley Quinn spirit with me. I had put on my original cotton black socks and blue converse snickers, took one gun with me just in case and went to the big wooden door.

I took a big breath and pressed the iron handle. It was quite massive.

The door opened and I stepped out into a dark corridor with torches on the walls.

I looked left and right, and saw nothing except the stony walls.

I started walking silently in the hallway. Just before I turned right at I heard two men talk in a strange language. I glanced behind the walls-they were both bronze-skinned, like me. They had long, black braided and beaded beards and they wore long jackets that were made out of furs and leather. One of them had a big chain with a metal piece connected to it dangling from his neck. Both of them carried round swords, they had black eye-makeup and long, _long_ , braided hair. I've never seen a man with such a long hair. Heck, I don't think I saw it on a woman. They were very tall and muscular.

I drew back and took a big breath. They don't look like they're a part of Jon's people. They don't have the same uniforms, and I doubt Jon know their language. Maybe we landed in a different place?

Both of them looked hard to defeat. I mean, I can always take them by surprise and use my gun… but if they are on our side, I'm screwed.

I took a big breath and decided to run to the left instead and hope they'll be too startled to respond quickly.

I charged and just ran. I heard them shouting in their language and running after me. I gulped and kept on running, turning left, then right, in that huge maze of a castle. That damn gown slowed me down. But I couldn't wear my shorts. It would be too cold. I already started to feel the cold air sipping through the small windows.

There was a small opening on my right-and then a stone spiral staircase. I took my chance and took the stairs down. After what seemed like forever I got to a different floor. I was breathing hard, and I feared I'm going to get tired soon. Still hearing their shouts, I pushed myself through a double-door. The freezing air and bright light hit my face when I saw the big yard below, full of snow and busy people doing their medieval business. I walked on that wooden balcony, looking for a way out when I felt a big warn hand on my shoulder. I looked up to my right to see one of the big guys.

He said something in his language to the other guy. He laughed.

So I tried to run again.

That was dumb, since the two of them where holding my arms now.

"No!" I protested. They didn't care. They took me back inside, and then the first guy swung me over his should like a sack of potatoes. "No!" I said again and gave his muscular back my best punches while kicking in the air. It hurt me more than it hurt him. "Put me down, you humanoid horse!" He also smelled a bit like horses.

* * *

I'm so humiliated.

I wasn't sure where we were going, since I was facing backwards, but I was giving him a fight. I heard a creaking noise of big doors opening, then they said something in their language again and I was dropped to the floor like a potato sack.

"You motherfucking bearded, protein-shake addict, stupid horse-breath jerk!" I screamed at the big guy. He ignored me and looked at someone behind me. I guessed it was my time to turn around, meet their leader and beg for my life. The grip on my gun tightened. I was happy they didn't know it was a weapon, so they didn't take it away.

I turned around with my gun in my hands. I need to get out of here and find Jon, to make sure he's fine. "Don't make another move!" I shouted as I turned around.

But instead of the big barbarian I was expecting, there was a woman about my height. And that was where the physical similarities we shared ended.

She was the most beautiful person I've ever seen. She had something very proud and strong about her presence, a very no-funny-business look with a sharp looking black dress and a red scaled cape swinging over her shoulder. Her gloved fingers were intervened with each other as she looked at me from a stone stage. I didn't even look at the people behind her because she was so mesmerizing, her braided hair silver and her big eyes violet.

It was Daenerys Targaryen, Jon's queen. I just knew it was her.

I was shocked she had anything to do with these people. One of them grabbed me by the shoulders because I was threatening his queen, but I didn't let the gun go. He gripped me so hard my legs were almost dangling above the ground.

"Andie!" I suddenly heard Jon. He was there, I didn't even notice him at first. He was just a few feet behind Daenerys. "Put the gun down." His voice was commanding. I didn't like it, after all we went through. We were friends.

I pouted. "Well, tell your goon to let me go so I can do it." I said.

Daenerys quirked an eyebrow at me and looked at her barbarian minion. She said something in his language and he let me go. I put down the gun, at a reaching distant near my foot, not too far but not too close.

"I'm sorry for my Dothraki guards, my lady." Daenerys finally spoked. "You _did_ threaten their _khaleesi_."

"Their what now?"

Daenerys had an amused smile on her face and stepped closer. "I wanted to thank you for bringing Lord Snow back safely." She continued, "He's very important for his people, family and myself."

I looked at Jon over her shoulder. "I though you said you're a king or something?"

Jon shook his head. "It's complicated." He said.

Daenerys looked me up and down. "You were sleeping for quite a while. I'm sure you'd wish to change into something more appropriate? The weather is cold. Jon told me it's summer where you came from."

I didn't understand why the rest of the people in the room weren't speaking. Maybe it's their way of honoring their queen? No one speaks until she tells them they can.

I looked down at myself. I was shivering. I wore a damn tunic and converse shoes.

"Missandei?" She didn't wait for my answer, "Please escort Lady Silver back to her chambers." Then she said something to her Dothraki guards and they went out of the room. I finally looked around to see it wasn't just a room, it was a hall. On the stage, there was a long table with chairs and people sitting around. A dozen guards were standing around-different kinds of people with different kinds of armor and weapons. One of them was a very tall woman with heavy armor and short blond hair.

A tall woman with curly hair stood up and walked to me. She had a kind smile. "Come with me, my lady." She said and bowed her head a little. She passed me and went through the opened double doors. I gave Jon a last look and he nodded to me again. I picked up my gun and turned to follow Missandei.

* * *

"This is so uncomfortable." I said and looked in the mirror. I was wearing something that looked a bit like Missandei's dress-it was sharp looking black dress with fur inside. More like a uniform than a pretty dress. I wore some woolen tunics and wool lined leather leggings under it. It was long and tough and I though it won't be easy to fight in. My boots were comfy though. I tried not to think about the fur, leather and wool. If I won't wear them, I'll freeze to death.

"Is it too small?" Missandei asked.

"No, I just think it's hard to move in." I said and stretched my leg to the side, then kicking straight up. "Well, I guess it will be fine. For now."

At least I had pockets now, and a belt to tuck my guns in. Out of a habit, I stuffed my phone in one of the pockets.

"Excuse me for asking, my lady, but I was wondering, what is the animal you have on the back of your neck?" Missandei asked as we walked down the corridor. She was in my room the whole time while I was changing. It was a bit awkward, but I guess that's how they do it. She had to help me tie some knots at the back of the dress and explain to me how to wear all of those layers and clothes.

"Oh, the tattoo?" I asked. "It's a whale."

"A whale?" She asked, curious. I think like her. She was formal, yes. But she was smarter than she let on, I'm sure.

"It's a sea creature." I said. "They're the biggest animal in the world, and I love them, so I got one tattooed on my neck."

"Is that the sigil of your house?"

"Where I come from most people don't have house sigils." I said.

Missandei had a small smile. "Yes, where I come from there are no sigils as well. The people of Westeros like that symbolism very much."

When we turned, I looked at the walls and saw there were a lot of flags on the walls. I guess it was a main corridor. Mostly I saw white flags with a grey wolf's head on them. There were also a lot of black ones with a red three headed dragon. I guessed the wolf was Jon's and the dragon Daenerys's.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"It's almost dawn. We are going to have supper to celebrate Jon's return and saving of the Night's Watch."

I bit my lip and looked around again. I felt weird… strange. A stranger. The only person I did know was Jon, but I didn't see him. "Where is Jon?"

"Getting ready for the feast, I would assume." Missandei said.

I nodded and I saw we stopped in front of the doors of the big hall. I could hear muffled voices and music from the inside, clashes of plates, forks and knives.

The two guards that stood by the doors weren't Dothraki-they too had a darker skin tone, like Missandei, and they wore helmets that covered half of their faces. They looked leaner and shorter than the giant Dothraki and had shields and spears with them. They opened the door without saying a word.

"These are the Unsullied," Missandei explained to me, "The Queen freed them and myself, and we had dedicated our lives for her by choice."

I looked inside the hall, now full of tables packed with people dinning. On the stage sat what I believe to be advisers, commanders and the close court to the queen, maybe to Jon as well. A bend was playing at the corner of the room and I really wanted to join them.

"She freed you?" I asked before we entered the loud hall.

Missandei nodded gently, "We were slaves, and Queen Daenerys freed us and slayed the masters who abused us."

I looked up at the table, but Daenerys wasn't there. Neither was Jon.

I think they're together. Having fun, catching up, talking about how the both of them are so perfectly good and perfectly good looking, how their baby is going to be the closest thing to perfection the world had ever known.

Who am I kidding, they're probably freaking out right now.

I was led to the stage and Missandei let me sit next to the blond woman in the armor I saw before. She still had full armor on and her sheathed sword on her belt.

Then Jon got in the hall with an older man-he looked like he was in his late fifties, maybe more. He had grey hair and grey short beard. They were talking about something, but I couldn't hear. I wanted to go to Jon, to see if he's fine. He looked worried-I mean, he usually does, but this time he was more brooding. Maybe the man was telling Jon what was happening while he was gone. Maybe it wasn't so good.

He didn't even look at me when he sat at the table left to an auburn haired young woman. She was very beautiful, as well. She didn't have that unnatural aura Daenerys had, but she had grey-blue eyes, flaming hair and a proud posture that made me remember to straighten my back. Next to her, sat a young man-a teenager, even-with short brown hair and brown eyes. I could see he was sitting in a wheelchair, and I guessed that was Bran. So it this is Bran, the beautiful woman must be one of Jon's sisters.

Just as I was wondering which one she was, another young woman walked towards them, greeted everyone and sat next to Bran. She had dark hair as well, with dark grey eyes. Something in the way she walked was stealthy, and she wore leather pants and a jacket that looked way more comfortable and practical than what I wore. I need to ask for these things next.

Her hair was short comparing to most of the women I saw here, and she had a big knife and a long, thin sword strapped to her. I guess this is Arya, which make the other one Sansa.

So these are all of Jon's living siblings.

The grey-haired man sat next to Jon. Then the doors opened and Daenerys came in with a bunch of Dothraki in tow. Next to her walked a little person-I don't know if here it's fine to call him a dwarf. He was blond with a scruffy looking beard.

When she stood in front of her plate-two seats from the grey bearded guy, the two chairs between them were for the dwarf and Missandei-everyone else rose to pay respect, so I did the same.

Daenerys took a short moment to look around at the people in the crowded hall. They were different from each other. Those who looked like payed less respect to her wore the heavier armor and spoke English-yet they still stood and waited.

"Brave men and women," She started. "I am happy to announce Lord Snow had come back safely, with the help of Lady Andie Silver." _Can they please stop calling me that? It sounds awful._ "We are already planning the day ahead of us." She looked around again. Missandei was translating, so was the Unsullied who didn't wear a helmet.

"I know we are speaking different languages, I know we came from different places. We had our disagreements. Some of you may still see me as a foreign invader, unworthy of her claims to the throne." I could see some people snorting in the audience, but Daenerys didn't seem to care. "It does not matter. And it does not matter, because we all have a common enemy, which most of you had the unfortunate opportunity to meet." She walked around the big table, now standing in front of it with a straight back, pacing quietly. "I _will_ prove myself to you, like I did to my hundred-thousand man that came all that way with me across the narrow sea." Daenerys walked down one step, "We are facing a great threat to the living here. The enemy does not care for our language, beliefs, wits or gold. The only thing they care for is our beating hearts and our breathing souls and they'll do anything in order to stop it. Let us do anything in our ability to stop them!"

People seemed to agree now. You couldn't argue with what she said.

Daenerys walked back to her seat. "Let us feast! Let us drink together. Look around you," She gave the crowd a smile, "These are the men and women you are going to fight alongside with. And I am going to be there with you!" People started to cheer. Even the cynics in the red armor nodded in agreement.

Daenerys sat, and the whole room sat with her. Servers started to walk among the halls with trays full of food-mostly, it seems, it was meat. Some kind of an animal part here, some other roasted part there. A serving girl filled my plate with meat, carrots, potatoes and other vegetables. Someone poured wine into my goblet and I didn't even have the time to thank any of them when they disappeared to serve other people.

I took the fork and poked at my potatoes. They seemed fine, great even. I can have a whole dinner of veggies and bread.

After a minute or two of eating, the woman in the armor turned to me.

"It is an honor to sit by your side, my lady." She said with a bit of a tight smile. But it wasn't cold. Just guarded. "I'm sorry for not introducing myself earlier this evening. I am Brienne of Tarth. I serve the Starks."

"No need to call me lady," I said with a small smile. "I'm Andie. I see you're wearing armor at the table?"

"Not to insult any of the hosts," She said. "These days, you can never be too careful."

I nodded and sipped some wine. It was strong, and it came down roughly down my throat, leaving a sour taste in my mouth. So I had more. "I don't know anything about the customs here," I said, "And I do not know anything of Westeros. Can you tell me about Tarth?" I asked, and she did. She told me where are the important places, the important houses (most of them fell, she said).

I looked around at the people-Lannister soldiers, Knights of the Vale, Mormonts and more. Daenerys brought with her the Dothraki, Unsullien and more people from an entirely different continent.

I gulped. "And you say these people are just learning to get together?" I asked.

"Under the good leadership we've come to have, I even believe it is possible." Brienne said and bit into some animal's leg.

I drank more of the wine and looked around the table again. "Brienne," I said, "Will you be able to teach me sword fighting?"

She looked at me with careful eyes, then nodded. "I can try," She said. "But you are pretty small. You'll have to use a small sword, or maybe you should ask of Lady Arya's tutoring? You are pretty close in size, and she uses a different technique."

I was thinking for a while and watched Arya. She looked cool, but there was some weird energy around her. She didn't let her guard down, maybe once or twice while talking to her siblings, especially Jon.

Then I felt a buzz on my thigh. Soon after came the noisy guitars. I stopped eating in shock.

" _I'm an alligator! I'm a mama-papa coming for you!"_

The table fell silent, and after that the whole room.

 _"I'm a space invader, I'll be a rock'n'rolling bitch for yoooouuu!"_

I really need to change my ringtone, do I? Brienne had her hand on the hilt of her sword, and so did others who looked for the source of that sound. I had to take it. I didn't know why it's even working. Do I get reception here?

 _"Keep your mouth shut. You're squawking like a pink-monkey-bird, and I'm busting up my brains for the words."_

I reached my pocket. "It's fine," I said. "I'll take it outside." I said and stood. So many eyes were on me while David Bowie kept singing.

 _"Keep your 'lectiric eye on me babe... put your ray gun to my head…"_

"What is that?" Brienne asked.

"Is that some sort of a game?" Asked someone blond with a golden hand I didn't pay attention to before.

I took my phone out and the people closer to me gasped in amazement.

"How come such a small thing makes such a big noise?" Brienne asked.

The dwarf walked around the table to get a better look and said, "You can ask the same thing about me." He said sarcastically and I decided I like this guy. But really, I need to answer.

"I'll take it outside." I said again, stepping away from the table. I saw a back door to the kitchens, so I won't have to go through all of these staring eyes.

"You should ask you queen for permission to leave, as her honored guest." The dwarf said carefully.

I clenched my teeth. I wasn't asking for permission to leave the table since I was six. "May I be excused, Your Grace?" I asked Daenerys. With wonder still on her face, Daenerys nodded.

I ran to the kitchen door while answering. It showed Zee's number.

"Andie? What took you so long?" It was Dakota's voice.

I sighed in relief to hear one of my friends. "You won't believe me." I said and walked slower now. I saw a door I believed was leading to the outside, and even though it was freezing out there-there weren't any people too.

"Did Jon managed to go to Neverland? Are you on your way back?"

I opened the door and shivered when the cold had hit me. "He's in Westeros, alright." I said.

There was heavy snow in the yard. I saw a giant green house, so I walked there, getting inside to enjoy the slightly warmer temperature. "And he took me with him."

"He _WHAT?"_ Dakota screamed in my phone. There was a short noise and then someone else was talking.

"You're in Jon's world?" Zee asked. "Weird. I wonder if there's reception or if it's just my phone that can call yours."

"It doesn't matter!" I said. "I need to find a way back! It's freezing in here."

"Hmm…" Zee wondered, "I guess you need to do the same. Find something from our world after you do something or solve something. There's a reason for you being there."

"Very helpful, psychic."

"You're welcome."

Then a static noise came. Zee said something that slurred, and it was the end of conversation.

Oh, fucking hell.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **And that's it for now, people.**

 **Let me know what you think in the comments!**

 **~A Girl Has Many Names~**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi again,**

 **Thanks for all the people who are following the story, and a special thanks to the ones who took their time to review :)**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

I didn't want to leave the greenhouse until it was too dark and cold outside. I loved sitting there between the plants and veggies, far from the crowds of medieval warriors.

And Jon, that idiot, was ignoring me for such a long time. Yeah, really, you're welcome for bringing you back home.

I bit my lower lip and went back to the hall. Except for some cleaning people, it was empty. Was I really gone for that long? There was still wine available, so I poured myself and drank. It warmed me and made me feel a bit better. I'm not one to get drunk easily, but this shit is strong.

"Andie," I heard someone call my name and I turned around. It was Arya, so I smiled.

"Hey, you. Jon said you're great." I said dumbly, and now I was sure the wine had its effect on me.

Arya let a small smile show. "He did?"

"Yeah, you probably know how he loves you. You're like Mullan, but better with a sword."

"Mullan?" She asked, curious.

"A Chinese girl warrior who's also a Disney Princess, but she's, like, the farther thing from a princess you'll meet. She's great. But she's not real."

"Disney Princess," Arya echoed after me. Then she came back to herself and walked by my side out of the hall. "I heard you want to learn sword-fighting." She said. "But Jon said you're good with other weapons."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm good with guns, but I only have forty bullets in each, which means that here I have eighty, that's enough to kill eighty people if I aim well, and I usually do," I said, "But here… here it's different. I need to defend myself with all means possible. Jon told me about this place, and I'm not taking any chances."

"Guns?" Arya stopped in her place to look at me.

"Yeah, you don't have them still cuz you don't have gunpowder yet. Or the right technology."

"Teach me to use guns, I'll teach you how to use a sword and a knife."

"Listen, you can't retrieve bullets. They're not like arrows."

Arya looked at me again, "Who are you saving all of those bullets for?" She sounded suspecting.

"Why do you want to learn to shot guns?" I asked in return. Arya smiled.

"I'm interested in mastering different kinds of weapons."

I sighed, "Ok, whatever. Since I taught your brother, I'll teach you as well. I'll give you ten. I'll use five to show you what to do, you'll use five to practice. Deal?"

"Deal." Arya agreed.

The night was long. I couldn't sleep. It wasn't freezing like I thought it would be-somehow my room was warm and the fire kept burning. But I didn't hear from Jon yet, and it started to piss me off.

Why? Why didn't he come to talk with me at dinner? Why didn't he come _now_? He's a king, or a lord, or whatever. Can't he do whatever he wants?

I sat in my bed, half-drunk, lonely. I needed my friends, my cat. I missed the city background noises, the cars, the random drunk people shouting and cursing at 3 am.

I took my phone and tried to put it on battery saving mode. Then I took my headphones and played some music. I listened to the soft guitar playing in Led Zeppelin's 'Rain Song', and felt my eyes close just as the sun started to rise.

* * *

My sleep didn't last long. I was woken up half an hour after I fell asleep.

Ten minutes after that and I was in the sparring yard with a fencing sword in my hand. Arya lent me some of her clothes-one of them was a heavy long bright leather jacket with fur on the inside and chainmail in between the fabrics. I was struggling with the tight leather gloves and the weight of the jacket, but it was the best choice. The clothes I had weren't really good for fighting-they looked nice, and that's all.

I tripped on the icy floor and Arya had her sword at my throat. It was the fifth time.

"Can we at least have a break?" I asked, panting as I stood up, "I didn't even have breakfast!"

Arya kept pointing her sword-'Needle'-at me. "Not until I say so." She said and started to attack again. I defended myself just before she slashed at my face and ducked. When I tried to attack her leg. She stepped away with ease. "You're predictable." She said. "Try to be less predictable."

I pressed my lips. I didn't know how to use a sword well. I was clumsy when it came to that. I'll probably be better with a bow and an arrow, but I need to know how to fight face to face. I looked around and blocked another blow. Arya circled me and I turned in my place. There were people around us, some stayed to watched but most went on their own business. The ground was icy and slippery, piles of snow all around us.

I sighed and thought for a moment. Yep, I'm shitty with a sword. But I don't have to count only on a sword to win a fight.

I let myself slide on the ice, fast, to a different part of the yard. Arya looked a bit surprised, but smiled and did the same, chasing me. I found myself behind a small pile of snow. I kicked it when Arya got closer. It didn't do much, and I had to defend myself with a sword and duck backwards when she cut the air where my head used to be.

"Are you trying to train me or _kill_ me?" I grumbled.

"I don't always see the difference." She answered and went closer.

I fell on my butt and kick my legs, pushing me back. "Who the fuck trained _you_ that you came to that conclusion?!" I asked, struggling to breath. Then I thought about my surrounding again.

"No one." She answered with a smile, as if it was a privet joke.

As Arya went to give me another blow, I took a nice amount of snow in my hands, made it into a sloppy ball and through it at her face. I hit her perfectly and gave me time to stand back to my feet. I lifted my sword and gave a blow to her sword. She gave a good fight, pushing forwards and I struggled. She had the upper hand again.

I breathed out again and felt like I can't hold much longer. So I moved aside quickly, and Arya lost her balance and fell face-first into a pile of snow. I was panting, but I knew Arya won't give me a break until I semi-won. So I picked up Needle and pointed both swords at her as she struggled up from the snow. The she took out a fucking knife.

"Oh, c'mon!" I complained and blocked some blows using the swords. She hit my wrist with her hand while I was using my other hand to block her knife with a sword, and my second sword fell to the ground. Then she ducked quickly and gave me a blow to the ankle. It didn't wound me, but just hurt really, really bad. I turned around to find her behind me with a knife when she finally completely disarmed me. "I yield!" I breathed out. Biting my lower lip in pain. Arya looked at me with a complete poker face. Then a small smile slowly showed on her face.

"Finally," She put her knife back to her belt. "You finally gave a fight."

* * *

I had bread and jam for breakfast. The bread was fresh and warm and the berry jam was perfect... I just needed peanut butter. Actually, no. I was good this way.

I didn't want to tell this to Arya, but the workout so early in the morning, before I even had the chance to drink or eat, made the breakfast so much better.

She was tearing a sausage with her fork and knife hungrily, and I could tell Arya uses them just because she had to. If she wasn't a lady in Winterfell, she would eat the meat with her hands like a savage.

I bit the inside of my cheek and then asked her, "So, do you know where Jon is?" I'd put down my toast, less hungry now. "I didn't have the chance to talk with him since I got here."

Arya looked at me with a face full of whatever it was, and swallowed. "He's probably in some kind of a war meeting." She said and took another bite. Then, with her mouth full she added, "He could be with Daenerys, too. But I doubt it. They're both too busy… it took him some time to catch up with everything that's been happening when he was gone."

I glanced at my plate and sighed. I did my best to understand it, but still, it was disappointing. I took a big gulp of water, and decided to concentrate on other things.

We went back to the sparring yard with Brienne and Podrick in tow. Brienne said she wanted to make everyone is safe in the presence of a weapon no one knows, but I think she was just curious about it.

"You need a target?" Arya asked and I nodded.

"Not the straw targets, though. Do you have wood targets? Metal, maybe?"

Arya gave me a questioning look, "We can't spare metal for practice. But we do have wooden targets."

Podrick set the targets up at the other side of the yard. Brienne made sure no one of the busy soldiers and servants was passing between us and the targets.

"I remind you," I said, "Five bullets for me, five for you. I can't waste too much of those. I don't know when I'm going back."

Arya nodded and looked at the gun like a child looking at a strange animal. I gave her one.

"Now, you need to be very careful with those things. The wrong treatment, and they can blow up in your hand." I saw a suspiciously smugly sly man leaning on a wall and watching us. He looked Westerosi. With a short beard, light armor and a coat, a sword at his belt and long dark hair. He had a curious yet arrogant look in his eyes and he struck his beard and watched me show Arya how to handle it.

"Now, it's going to be really loud," I said. "And since it's your first time… I recon other people should stay at least ten feet away on each side of the target."

"Show me how you do it." She half commanded.

I took a deep breath, "Again, it's really loud, maybe you should warn some people? I don't want half of that huge castle to freak out."

"How loud that little piece of steel can be?" Asked the man. "A fucking dragon roared at my face, it almost deafen me ears. Go on with it."

I hate it when guys think they know better. "And you are?"

"Ser Bronn of Blackwater, happy to introduce meself." He gave a little mock bow and looked at the guns again. He gave the impression he's the kind of person people with high status will wrongly take as an idiot, or a simple man. I could see he was calculating every move I made. That guy knows how to fight.

"Happy to meet you too." I rolled my eyes at him and returned to Arya. "Alright, I warned you people. Now take a step back."

I took my gun and loaded it, taking the safety off. Then I looked at the target. It was about ninety feet away from me. It was nothing. I aimed at the center and squeezed the trigger. I was used to the large bang that came with it, even without earplugs, but Arya laid flat on the ground and so did Brienne. The people around us stopped in their place, and half a minute later started to talk haughtily, intrigued. Oh, no. I have an audience.

I always have to give a show when I have an audience.

I looked around and saw some Dothraki and Unsullied rushing to the yard. Then I saw some other soldiers-Lannister, Glover, Mormont. At the head of the Mormont force stood a ten-year-old girl with grumpy face. Oh, so that's the angry kid from dinner last night? I think she was shutting down someone who mocked her house like a boss.

After no one did anything, I understood they were waiting. Arya was quickly back on her feet and Brienne stood tall behind me.

I looked at the target and the hole in its center. Then I knelt on one knee and shot again. People were less surprised this time, but I had more audience. Then I did the same, laying on my belly to shoot from the third basic position. I stood up and span the gun in my hand. "These are the basic three position you need for using one gun." I told Arya. She didn't say anything and walked to inspect the target. Then she came back and asked, "Did you ever killed anyone?"

I swallowed and looked at the target. "Yes, I did," I said. "More than once."

I heard a chuckle from Bronn's direction. "I can see it." He said, finding it amusing. I didn't pay much attention to him.

Arya nodded and lifted her gun. She asked me how to do it and shot. She missed the targets at her first three tries, but hit near its center at her last two.

"What else can you do?" She asked, challenging.

I snorted. "You're out of bullets."

"But you're not," She said and looked around at the audience, then back to me. I understood what she wanted. She wanted me to give a show. More than that, I think this whole thing was happening not so she can learn how to shoot a gun. The whole purpose of this was for her to learn what I'm worth.

I clenched my jaw at the challenge and looked around. I saw Sansa stand on one of the balconies. Then, on the one opposite to that, Daenerys, Tyrion and Missandei. She had her bloodriders with her as well. Jaime, Tyrion's one-handed brother was standing next to Bronn, after he rushed into the yard when he and a dozen more Lannister soldiers probably heard the gunshots.

Do I want to give them a show? Of course I do. That's what they want. Hell, I think they're bored and sick of being busy with war stuff all the time. People need a distraction from life, especially when it's so shitty.

I reached my empty hand to her. She put the gun in my empty palm. Now with one gun in each hand I felt more balanced. Yeah, I was good with a sniper gun as well or a single gun. I was pretty good with other kinds of fire arms, like Uzi or M16, but having weight in both hands just felt right to me. "Take a step back," I told her, and she did, this time not questioning the power of the weapons I brought with me.

I span both guns on my fingers and looked at the target. There were some other wooden targets around. I know I said five bullets for each, but I was challenged. I can't disappoint Arya. I want her to know I'm worth something.

So I went for it. I ran and jumped on a pile of snow and shot two bullets to two different targets while still in the air. Then I continued jumping to an empty wagon. It tilted and shook when I landed on it, unbalanced, so I jumped and caught a part of the railing of the balcony with my arm, shooting another bullet while hanging from one arm. Then I swung myself, putting my legs through the bars and hanging upside down. That was my favorite stunt-shooting backwards. It's like I had a chance to stretch and target practice at the same time.

I shot two more bullets, and that was it. I heard gasps, and the silence. I guess they waited for more, but that was it for me.

"I'm done for now! I'm glad you liked the show. Invite me to birthday parties and for a fair price I'll teach the kids how to hit a target!" I announced, still hanging and letting the blood reach my head for a bit.

Arya looked at me from the yard with a playful smirk. I saw some people inspect the targets from close. One young man picked a dead bullet between his fingers. Bronn was pacing close, saying something I couldn't hear. At the balcony to my right, I could see Daenerys smiling at me and nodding her head slightly. She didn't look like she's mocking me, she was actually impressed. Then she turned away and disappeared with her party.

I decided it's time to stop hanging, so with a lot of ab-muscle work, I lifted myself up, only to meet the very grumpy stare of Jon Snow himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**

 **Hello people of Earth!**

 **Yeah, well, third chapter.**

 **Enjoy~~~**

* * *

When the big door closed behind me, I felt like I was in a bit of trouble.

I looked around at Jon's quarters-chambers? Bedchambers? Whatever they call them.

He had a huge bed with furs on it, and there was a bath at the corner, and a big skin of a bear or another animal, I couldn't figure it out. There was also a shelf with bottles and a small desk. I guess he has a bigger desk at his official… office. There was also something that looked like a closet, a bookcase and a small fireplace.

Jon didn't say anything when I climbed over the railing but a gruff and angry ' _we need to talk_ '. Then he led me to his room in awkward silence. We didn't go straight there, because he was called by Davos to sign a letter, approve an order and other lord-like business.

I put my guns down on the desk. I didn't know what to say, but I remembered I was angry myself. I let out some steam shooting, but seeing Jon now…

First, I was happy that at least he had time to talk. Then, when I went into his room, I felt like I did something bad because of his silence, but now… I wanted to yell at him for being a shitty friend. He started talking first, though.

"What were you thinking?" Jon asked angrily. I could hear he's trying not to raise his voice too much, but his jaws were clenched and he was a little bit more red than usual. He gave his _'I'm angry with you because you did something really dumb, and yet I though you're a smart person'_ look.

"When, where?" I demanded, a bit sarcastic. "Be more specific."

Jon sighed with a bit of anger. "Using a gun, here in Winterfell? In Westeros? You scared some people. They think you're a witch. People here are not fond of witches."

"Your sister asked me to teach her. Then she asked me to put on a show."

Jon looked at me in disbelief. "So you pledged yourself loyal to my sister?"

"What? No!" I was a bit confused.

"Then why are you doing everything she's asking for?"

I rolled my eyes at him, "Really, Jon. I wanted her to teach me fencing-"

"Fencing?"

"I think she calls it water-dancing. You know, her sword-fighting style." I sighed and leaned on the wall. "She wanted me to teach her my way of fighting in return. Then… she challenged me, and with all of these people watching, I felt like I need to…"

"Show off?" He sarcastically asked with a disapproving tone.

"Yup." And to that Jon just scratched his head in frustration. He untied his man-bun and ruffled his hair, clearly tired from the day, even though it was only mid-day by now. Maybe he was tired from my childish behavior. I know… I'm starting to get it too. It wasn't just showing off. It was also getting his attention. _Someone's_ attention, anyway. But it's not my fault. He kind of left me alone with strangers.

It was my turn to get mad at him. "And where have _you_ been? I was worried sick, and alone, and I don't know anyone here! You didn't even bother to introduce me to your family!" I felt my blood getting hotter with anger. "I thought the Dothraki guards were an enemy that kidnapped us. I almost killed them! I know it's been only two days, but is it too hard to come and tell me what is going on? It takes only three sentences and a bottle of wine to wash it down."

Jon looked a bit angry himself, again. "What do you want me to do, Andie? I have other responsibilities, and you know that! I had to learn of the things I've missed in my absence. I had to talk with so many people I haven't even met before. I had to plan the next move-"

"Okay, fine! Mr. King in the North, fine! You're an important different person here, I get it." I felt a small pinch in my heart still, because he didn't even come to check on me once. Being important isn't supposed to make you avoid someone at dinner, right? "I need to find my way back anyways."

Jon looked at me and I saw that any trace of anger in his eyes was replaced with guilt. "You know I can't help you with that. Not now."

Again, I couldn't help but feel bad for myself. I get it, he's in a war. He can't help me like I helped him. So if I can't go home…

"Let me help." I said and stepped towards him, "Let me fight at your side." He stared at me like I just fell from the moon through the fucking stone ceiling.

"What? No! I'm not letting you risk your life." He reached for my hands and held them, forcing me to come closer, "You made sure I was safe in New York," Then he looked me in the eyes. Damn, he's making my life much more difficult. "I'm not going to let you die in a strange world away from your family, and for a lost cause."

"A lost cause? Helping you defeat the ice-zombies-" "White Walkers." I pulled my hands away, a bit more forcefully than I intended, "The Walking Dead on Fucking Ice, I don't give a shit what you call them. It's not a lost cause. It's saving lives."

Jon clenched his jaw and looked at his longsword that was laying on the table, next to my guns. "You don't know how to do it. You're bad with a sword… I don't think the bullets will kill the wights or the Walkers." He paced around. "And it's not a good time either. The walkers grew their army. I'm not letting you out. I can't risk it. You'll die, Andie, or worse… you'll turn into one of them."

"Wouldn't it be cool, though?" I smirked and felt like I can try to cut the tension in the room, "I mean, practically cool."

"Andie, it's not a joke!" Jon scolded at me. "I saw good men, and good women turn into those things. It's never pretty."

I couldn't stop my stupid smirk. "Well, everything _I_ do is pretty."

"Andie!" He cried out in frustration. Then he closed his eyes and took a big breath. "I will not see your eyes turn blue. I will not have your blood spilled. You are not going out of the castle, and that's an order." And with that he opened his eyes, waiting for my reaction.

I looked at him for a few seconds, shocked, then snorted. "You're giving me orders now? I'm not your lord-soldier-advisor-whatever."

"No, but I _am_ the king in the north, and sadly for you, you _are in the north_." He was too close to me now, and I felt my back pressing against the desk. I hated that moment. I hate being told what to do, I hate not being able to help, I hate the fact that I feel something for someone who's pretty much closed the business 'cause he's already hit jackpot. I didn't plan to end up in that frozen wasteland, but I do want to help as long as I'm stuck here. He can't take that away from me. I don't care it's because he's worried for my well being, or even if he's right and it is dangerous. I don't care how kingly he is, I already know him a little bit. I saw him struggle with a vending machine and cry when Steve Trevor died. He can't impress me now.

I grabbed my guns behind me and shoved Jon away. "I respect you and your worries, but you didn't really learn anything about me, did you?" I quirked an eyebrow at him and went for the door. I had my hand on the big door handle, "I _never_ respond well to authority." And with that I opened the door and got out of his room.

* * *

I was pissed off, I was angry. I wanted to punch something, and I knew exactly what to do.

I need to find Arya and keep on practicing kicking ass the Westerosi-Bravosi way.

After a long practice with a bow and some arrows, I felt much better. We were sitting together for dinner-Arya, Brienne, Podrick, Bronn and the Hound, who was eating his third chicken. There were a few others-Lord Baric, Tormund, another wildling and a brother of the Night's Watch.

"So, I said," I said after I swallowed whatever wine was left in my goblet, "'You motherfucking jerk, you can't fool me! I know you cheated on me after our first date you fucking moron! Go to fucking hell and never comeback, 'cause if you do, I have friends and they're CRAAAZY!' and just like that, that idiot decided he fell in love with me."

The Hound just looked at me for a while, chewing on his chicken. " _Motherfucker?_ " He asked with a half-full mouth, "What the fuck is that kind of a cunt curse?"

"Well, I don't care what's the meaning of it, it's just satisfying to say." I said smartly and bit into a potato.

"Like 'cunt'." He said. It made me smile for some reason

"Well. When _you_ say it sounds just right, but I don't know if it will sound as awesome with my American accent." I decided as I ate some peas.

"This blue-haired chick is as bad with language as you are." Tormund said. "Just like a wildling girl."

Brienne scoffed and rolled her eyes. She ate her food in silence. I knew she's the kind of person who doesn't like cursing. But it's so damn fun.

"Oh, and motherfucker is just the start! Do you know 'dickhead'? Or…. Well, I will always have a worm place in my heart for 'fuckwit', even though I don't say it too much."

And so went on the evening with cursing, swearing and drinking. It was easy to befriend Tormund. The Hound was a bit harder to crack. Well, I call him Clegane now, so I guess we've made some progress. The whole light-hearted conversation (and strong alcohol) helped me forget about being mad at Jon or about him being mad at me.

I got under my covers and snuggled sleepily, smiling to myself as I remembered the evening, and how I hit most of the targets with the arrows at first try.

* * *

"Lady Silver, Wake up!"

I was rudely shaken out of my sleep. I already felt a bit hungover as I slowly opened my eyes and saw one of the handmaids turning on the fire in my room. It was still dark outside. What is it with people waking me up so early here?

"What happened?" I asked, yawning.

She hurried to me and took off my blankets. What was her name again? Rose? Reese? Rene? I hate myself for forgetting.

"King Jon, m'lady, he wanted to see you at once."

"Wh-what?" I blinked. I thought Jon hated me after yesterday.

"Yes, m'lady, he said it's urgent."

I blinked and got out of bed and started to get ready. What could it be all about? Did he find a way for me to go back home so quickly? Did he regret his decision to keep me between the castle's walls? Am I going to join a secret meeting? Was he _hurt_? I hope everything is alright.

The handmaid, which I'm pretty sure was named Rosy, lead me through the hallways until we got to the big doors I recognized. She knocked and the doors opened. It was Jon, wearing all of his kingly gear and a freshly made man-bun.

"Your Grace, here's Lady Silver." She bowed and walked away.

I looked at her disappearing around the corner, then back at Jon. I was still upset with him. It was clear he was upset with me. He had something in his hand that I couldn't see clearly.

Jon just started to walk down the hallway. I guess I have to follow.

"What is it all about?" I asked after five minutes of silence. We walked up and down stairs, through secrete passages and twisted corridors. I felt like we're mostly going downstairs. I think we also moved to a different building.

"You said you wanted to help." He said in a gruff morning-voice, even though in my logic, 'morning' never starts before the sun is rising.

I blinked, lost for words. Did he really change his mind that fast? Did Jon feel bad for being over-protective when it's clear I can kick-ass? I mean, he saw me in action more than ones. I am capable of protecting myself and others, and he knows it.

We got to a small wooden door. I smelt some fireplace smoke and bread, flour and yeast. I looked at Jon quizzically, but he didn't look back. He just opened the door and called for someone, "Barry!" He yelled. It was loud in there.

A big blond man came towards us, wearing a big smile. He had a flour sack under his thick arm and flour all over his hands and forehead.

"Good morning, your Grace!" He said with a little bow to his head. I saw behind him big tables and bakers kneading dough. In the far distance giant stone ovens were burning. It started to get hot in there.

"Good morning, Barry." Jon smiled to him. "I brought help. Andie, meet our head baker, Barry."

Again, I found myself wordless. I am going to _kill him._

"Good morning m'lady!" Barry said with such a bright smile that I couldn't not smile back. "Come to the kneading table when you done changing, will ya?" He gave a small bow to Jon and went to the kneading table.

Jon turned to me. He didn't smile, but I could see the annoying smugness in his eyes. The freaking jerk was enjoying that! I was fucking hungover and tired. How many hours did I sleep? Two? Three?

"Here," He said and handed me the thing he was holding. It was working clothes. "We have many men to feed this morning, and every pair of hands will help the bakers."

I wanted to be able to shoot lasers from my eyes. I looked at him and concentrated, hoping I can actually burn into his soul. "Jon…"

"You wanted to help." He said sharply. "Then _help_." He gestured with his eyes at the bundle of clothes in his hand. I looked down at it and sighed. He had a point. I won't admit it in front of him, of course.

I sighed in defeat and took the clothes. I turned to look for a place to change in, when I heard Jon say, "Good thing you have experience baking." And to that, I replied with a nice middle finger backwards.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **So... bread, someone? No, I'm kidding.**

 **I know. there's a bit of tension here and Jon came out as a bit over-protective guy, but I guess he'll feel extra guilty if something happens to Andie because he's the reason she's in that dangerous world.**

 **And the Hound is** _so_ **going to make more appearances, cuz. ya'know, he's the Hound.**

 **~A Girl Has Many Names~**


	4. Chapter 4: Baby You Can Light My Fire

**A/N: since I forgot to disclaim stuff, I will now-**

 **I do not own any of the characters/events/worlds created in Song of Ice and Fire or in the TV show Game of Thrones. Those were made by way more talented established people.**

 **Enjoy that chapter!**

* * *

When I entered the big hall, I got some suspicious looks from some people. Sansa was eating some bread and butter delicately when she spotted me enter with a big platter full of rye-rolls. It was the last one I had to send, and then I could finally relax and be done with the ship. It's crazy it's only breakfast time.

"Lady Silver?" Sansa asked with a bit of wonder and amusement in her voice.

"Please," I said and laid the platter down next to her, " _Please_ don't call me that." I saw the chair next to her was empty, so I let myself sit on it without any questions. I was tired, I was worn out and I still had a slight hangover. I'm not going to pretend I have manners for _anyone_ , not even the lady of Winterfell. I took one roll and ripped it in half, "Call me Andie." I said and bit into the steaming roll. Oh, wow. That's good.

"You are covered head to toe in flour." Sansa commented and turned to take a better look at me. "No wonder you're getting along so well with my sister."

I swallowed, "Yup. Also, the fact that we're both young assassins quite helped."

Sansa's eyes widen, surprised to find out what I told her. Well, I didn't see a reason to hide it from people here. Last night I talked about it with Arya. She said she's better 'cause she can wear other people's faces. I told her that I can use a soundless sniper gun and shoot someone dead a mile and a half away so it doesn't matter what my face looks like.

We're taking our tragedies very seriously. _Not._

"Are you?" Sansa asked. "Then why did you spend your time at the bakery?"

"Your brother tricked me into that. He said he needs help. I was too hungover to protest. When we got there, it was too late." I started eating the other half.

Sansa sighed and leaned back in her seat, "I guess we do need help in the bakery, but someone as skillful as you could do much more. Though I am not going to question Jon's decisions."

I looked at her with my mouth full, "Well, I am." I said.

She tried to hide her smirk as she stood up and patted clean her already clean dress. "If you'll excuse me, I have important matters to take care of." She said and turned o leave. "And please, clean up the floor and chairs off the flour after yourself." Then she looked me up and down, "I'll have rosy prepare a bath for you as well. Later, Lady Silver."

I gave her a sharp look. I guess she was kinda friendly with me, but couldn't help being a bit of a snob.

But she was right. Everything was floury around me. I felt bad for the servants so I grabbed a broom and stared to clean, ignoring looks from other high-ranking people that sat around for a late breakfast.

Just as I was about to leave the great hall, I heard my name again. "Andie!"

It was Jon. I clenched my jaw as my hands turned into tight fists. I just kept on walking. I need to get rid of the flour, and change into clothes that don't look like a potato-sack leftovers.

"Andie." I heard him calling me again. Then he grabbed my wrist.

"Can't I get a fucking break?" I raised my voice too much as I turned to face him.

"I need you at the sparring yard."

I blinked and returned him a look. "What." It wasn't really a question.

Jon looked back. Ser Davos and Tormund were standing behind him, holding a blowtorch and a flamethrower. "We need to demonstrate how to use the flamethrowers."

I took out a breath and looked at Tormund again. Everything that includes Tormund must be fun.

"Alright."

* * *

We were back at the sparring yard. I had the chance to change into actual clothes-warm leggings, leather coat and boots. This time Jon had a few human-shaped targets for us to practice on. Buckets full of water lined one of the walls, just in case something will get out of control.

There were soldiers around the yard-small units from each force. I took one of the flamethrowers out and adjusted it to my size so I'll be able to carry it easily on my back.

"How do you want me to introduce you?" Jon asked quietly so only I can hear.

I made a weird face. "Introduce me? I'm Andie."

"Well, you need _some_ kind of title. The Westerosi people will respect you better if you'll have one, and since you don't like being called a lady…'

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, fine." I said, thinking. Well, I can be Gun Master Andie. Nope, too weird. Maybe Super Andie? I don't know how'd they like that. Then I smiled and told Jon. He drew his eyebrows together in confusion and said, "It doesn't sound right."

"Well, you asked for a title." I said smugly. Jon rolled his eyes at me and went to talk with the people. Closer to us stood Brienne and Pod, Arya, Clegane, Grey Warm, two Dathraki who knew English (they call it here 'the common tongue', apparently), Bronn, Lyanna Mormont (Badass kid extraordinaire) and someone with black hair and blue eyes I haven't met before who talked to Davos, maybe I saw him he other day I was teaching Arya to shoot. There were also Tormund and Baric, and another guy in black I saw talking with Jon the other day. I think he's from the Night's Watch, too. Bronn was talking with Jaime Lannister at the corner behind us. On the balconies stood Sansa next to Bran and Sam Tarly, who very kindly introduced himself to me at lunch yesterday. Daenerys stood near them with Tyrion, Varys and Missandei.

Jon cleared his throat and started, "I summoned you all here to learn how to use a weapon I brought from the land of New York," I fought the urge to correct him that it actually just came from California, and he could just say the United States of America, but it wasn't important, "This is President Andie Silver, and I want you to listen closely and watch the demonstration." Then he stepped back and looked at me. I blinked.

"Oh, it's my turn." I said and looked around. "Listen up, people!" I shouted and walked around the yard. "I heard you're fighting ice zombies that are destroyed only by fire and whatever dragonglass is. So, since carrying around torches it not the easiest thing… I present to you, the flamethrower!" No hand clapping was heard at the que. Oh, well. Humorless people. "Ok, so, basically that's how it works. You have that gun with the tube. You have that big back-pack like container. You press this button here-" I showed them, making sure everyone had a look, "Then you turn it to the level of flame you want to have… and now, you do this:" I faced the target and took a small breath.

Then I squeezed the trigger and a big flame came out. It burned the little straw-guy while everyone gasped.

"It's like carrying a dragon!" I heard someone say. I glanced to Daenerys, who rolled her eyes at the comment but said nothing. I saw the Hound was terrified. He looked like he had PTSD by the way he looked at the flames. Jon and Davos hurried with buckets of water to put the fire off.

"Sorcery! That is magic!" Tormund said in his heavy accent and stroke his beard. "How are you doing that? That little thing spits so much fire."

Baric at his side with the eye patch stroke his beard. "The Lord of Light is shown in so many places…" I rolled my eyes at them.

"No, guys. We don't have magic. We have technology. Science." I tried to explain. The young man with the black hair I saw before came closer to take a better look at the flamethrower. He had a subtle of beard and a bit of excitement in his eyes. "I can see… It's men-made, but how? The paint work… The metal work… I don't believe I've seen any smith's work compared to this."

I quirked an eyebrow. "That's because it's not a smith's work. A machine made it. A human invented and designed it, but to make stuff so perfect humans created machines to do the work."

"Machines?" He asked. I saw it was hard for him to understand. I really tried to explain it, though.

"Gendry, we'll talk about it later. It doesn't matter if it's men-made or a product of sorcery as long as it spits fire and burns wights and walkers." Jon decided. "There is also a small version of it." Jon said and took a blowtorch out of his cape. How the hell did he manage to keep it in there?

"Yeah, we usually use it for meringue and other fancy dishes but I figured you can also kill some zombies with it." I said with a smirk.

"Zombies," Jaime said with a quirked eyebrow, "You keep saying that word like it means something."

I blinked at him, crossing my arms. "Well, where I come from, it's a pretty cool name for a living-dead being."

" _Cool?_ What do you mean when you say it's 'cool'?" He asked again with the same curious-yet-arrogant expression. I didn't know you can be both at the same time. "If you ask me it's freezing. And 'zombie' is not a very threatening word either."

I scoffed at him, "No, because 'walkers' is just making me shiver with fear. Seriously, people. It sounds like a name for lost old people on a boardwalk in the early morning."

"President of _what_ are you, exactly?" Jaime asked again, challenging.

I pressed my lips, "Well-

"Andie!" Jon stopped me, "Focus."

"Oh, right. Blowtorches. Go for it."

Jon stared disapprovingly in my direction for a moment, then went back to demonstrate. Then some people tried to use the flamethrowers and the blowtorches.

"The problem is," I said. "Those things don't last forever. Each have a gas tank… the gas is what feeds the flames. When the container is empty, you'll be out of fire."

"So we can't really practice using those… blowtorches." Brienne said.

"No, sadly. It's the most we could bring." I said. I wish I could get them a whole building of flamethrowers, I really do. I wish I could get one for every resident of the north.

Jon stepped in again. "We need brave men and women who are willing to face great danger, and stand at the front, burning as many wights as you can."

Then it dawned on me. I never thought in a big-battle way. I was mostly working by myself, or with a small unit. But when I come to think about it, you can't use flamethrowers while fighting at the side of your friends. The fire is too big. You'll burn people who are too close. The burn the ice zombies, the people who use the flamethrowers will have to fight at the front, with no living-people in the way. Those who will use it, will have to be the bravest. It's a suicide mission.

Then I thought of Daenerys and her dragons, that also need to make sure they're not burning anyone on their side. That's crazy.

People started to volunteer. Dothraki, Unsullied, Westerosi soldiers from different houses-they wanted to burn as many wights as possible.

"I'll do it," Bronn stepped forward as well. "There's no running from those fuckers, might as well burn with 'em."

I saw Jaime look at him with shock. Hmm, maybe it's unusual behavior for him.

The special task force was left in the yard while the others went back inside. I looked at those brave people and sighed. It just sucks to know that those people will probably die.

* * *

I felt useless in the bakery. Yes, I baked two-hundred rolls a morning. Yes, I was cheering the other bakers up.

But I knew I could do so much more. I could actually _help_ in the war. I had skills. I was still practicing with Arya and sometimes with Brienne as well. I got better with a bow and an arrow, knifes and even fencing swords. The big two-handed ones were harder. I had to use so much force to pick one up, I forgot about keeping my stance.

But still, I was on baking duty every fucking morning for a week. A _week_.

A week of me kneading dough while people are risking their lives in the front. A week of barely talking to Jon because both of us were still pissed off. A week of being stuck inside that castle walls, however big it was-I started to feel trapped. I knew the godswood, the greenhouse, the library-where I usually found Sam. It was cool. It was pretty.

It was a fucking living in a dark version of Disneyworld, but I didn't have the freedom of choice on which ride I'm taking.

I walked around the godswood when I met Ghost. I gave him a friendly pat on the back and we walked together.

"Your dad is an idiot," I told him. "I mean, no offence. I know he thinks he's protecting me. But there _is_ a reason I'm here." We stopped in front of the big weirwood. "There must be a real reason for it, and it can't be kneading bread."

I stared at the creepy face in the tree trunk. Ghost shoved his big nuzzle at me, asking for more petting. I sighed and brushed my fingers in the fur behind his ears.

I turned my head up to the cloudy skies and took a big breath in, and then I heard it again.

The same cry I heard when I arrived here.

I searched for it in the sky. Not 'it' _, him._ And then I saw the shadow.

The dragon was huge. Maybe even bigger than a whale. He soared in the sky in a way too graceful for a creature his size, but it was hypnotizing. He was far, very far up there. I couldn't see his colors properly, but it was enough for me. A motherfucking dragon. A real one.

And then I looked at Ghost and smiled, an idea forming in my mind. "Well, maybe your dad is a king." I looked again at the sky. "But their mom is _the_ queen."

* * *

 **So let me hear your thoughts!**

 **Thanks for reading, reviewing &following :)**

 **~A Girl Had Many Names~**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey peeps!**

 **So I think some people forgot about what happened with the war with Cersei in the south :) I wrote about it in Snow in NY, but basically Daenerys defeated Cersei's armies with the help of Jamie, who turned the Lannister army against her... oh, and Dany burned some Golden Company members. Cersei escaped with some of her loyalists (including the Mountain and Qyburn) and her location is unknown... For the army of the dead, well, they're pretty slow, not skipping on any village and holdfast, went to destroy Castle Black but most of the Watch's brothers escaped in time. Also, the North is really big, so it takes time to move an army.**

 **So yeah, if anyone was wondering, or if it wasn't clear when I wrote it in Daenerys' POV in the previous story :)**

* * *

"But is he really that good?" I asked Arya as we walked down the stairs.

She smiled and nodded. "He's one of the best smiths in the known world."

I looked at her pointedly. "It's not a toy… you know, it's pretty dangerous."

"He'll do fine. Just ask him about it."

When we walked into the workshop I saw a few smiths work on giant armors- _dragon_ armors. There were also goldsmiths working on it, putting small dragonglass pieces in the metal. It was very hot in there, despite the freezing cold out, so most of them were shirtless and sweaty.

Gendry approached us with a smile. He had papers in one hand and a weird measuring device in the other. "Arya, President Andie, what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked.

I blinked and tried not to laugh at him actually calling me president. "You can call my Andie." I said and he smiled back at me.

"We need your help." Arya said. "Do you think you'll have the time?"

Gendry looked behind him at the working men. "Yes, perhaps." He said and lead us to his desk.

I took one of my guns out and placed it on his desk. "I need your help with this."

He picked it up and squinted his eyes, "It's heavier than it looks."

"Yes," Arya agreed. "And way more dangerous. I was surprised myself."

He nodded. "And how do I… help you? You want me to make another?"

"No," I said. "I need you to make me dragonglass bullets."

"Dragonglass what?"

I took the bullet case out of the gun. Then, I took one bullet out and held it between two fingers. "Bullets. It's that small thing."

Gedry took some time to look at the bullet. Then he examined the gun.

"So usually, the thing that makes them fly is gunpowder… it's inside the bullet, but don't try to open it or break it! It can explode in your face."

Then we talked for a while. I showed him how to properly open the bullets. Gendry said he heard of something that works like gunpowder. I told him how measurements are crucial-if the bullet is too small, he gun won't shoot. If it's too big, it will block the barrel and the whole thing will explode in the shooter's hands. Even the smallest grain of sand can interrupt a gun's proper function, and those things have to be greased regularly.

"I'll try to think of something." Gendry said. "Are you really going to try and fight with those? I heard you're a baker." He said sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes at him, but Arya saved me from talking. "Didn't you see how good she is? She'll do better at the battlefield than in the bakery. You've been there when Andie taught me what guns are."

He smiled for a moment, "You, and half the castle."

Gendry pressed his lips and nodded. "I'll tell you when I've made a progress."

* * *

I looked around at the yard, waiting for the evening impatiently.

Arya was nowhere to be seen after we went to the workshop. I think she got a bit bored with me. I had a small lunch and walked around the castle until I decided to rest on one of the balconies.

"Cold, isn't it?" I heard someone ask me. I looked around and saw it was Tyrion Lannister.

"Yes." I answered, not really sure why he talked to me. He didn't talk to me this whole week, I guess he was too busy.

"Does it ever get this cold in the place you are from?"

"Nope." I said and rubbed my gloved hands together. "You're Daenerys's hand, aren't you?"

Tyrion smiled coyly and gave me a nod. "I am," he said. "Would you mind walking with me?"

I didn't have anything better to do. And I wanted to be liked by Daenerys's advisors, so I shrugged. "Not at all."

We walked to the godswood. "I heard from Jon that the world in which you came from is very different from here," Tyrion said. "It's much more comfortable living there."

"Depends on how much power, status and money you've got." I answered, "Depends on which parts of it you live in."

"Of course, like in every world, I assume." Tyrion agreed and petted a dog that passed by. "But still, I heard that the unfortunate can live better than the unfortunate here."

"Yes, I guess." I said and shrugged. "But they don't think about other unfortunate people. Most of them think about their own misfortune."

Tyrion smiled, "And then you have people like Jon Snow, a bastard, who was raised by his step mother to believe he's a piece of mud who grew up to save wildlings as the youngest lord commander of the Night's Watch I can remember, or Daenerys, that was born as a fugitive, and was sold and raped, and always had a place in her heart for the people who were unlucky, or unluckier than her. "

I looked at him from the corner of my eye, "Or you." I said. I didn't know him much, but I could see the scars on his face, I could se the sadness in his eyes. Tyrion was funny and sharp, he had smart and quick comments when I had the chance to hear him talk, but I could still see it. And also, I guess dwarfs here have it harder than in out world. I mean, I can't be the one to talk, but I believe out society is a bit more open to freaks and different people.

"Or you, too." Tyrion smirked a bit and we kept on walking. I guess he did his background check on me. Then I heard the dragons again and looked at the sky. "They're hunting," Tyrion said. "You think they're big now? Wait until you see one in person. Think how big they are from _my_ perspective."

I smiled and looked at him again. I like it, people who can laugh at their own weaknesses are the best. I need to do that myself.

"Their mother wasn't sure about you at first," Tyrion said.

"Is she the one who sent you to talk to me?" I asked, trying to not get disappointed if the answer is yes. I thought I was making a new friend.

"Not just. I wanted to know someone from a far away land. I'm a very curious man for my size."

I kicked some rocks on the way. "Why wasn't Daenerys sure about me? I helped Jon back."

Tyrion nodded, "Well, jealousy is not something you can help."

"Jealousy?" I stopped in my place, "You want to tell me that the mother of dragons, one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen in my life, was jealous of a fucking New Yorker with blue hair?"

"Well, maybe I'm not saying it right. She likes your free spirit, but she's also worried by it." He said. "She's worried you will not respect her authority."

"So here you're right. I don't respect anyone's authority. I respect logical and moral choices." I said and crossed my hands.

Tyrion smirked at me again, "Here you're wrong. You should not say it aloud. You've come to a different place, and you need to play by its rules."

I though about it for a moment. I wanted Jon to play by New York's rules, right? No swords, no dramatic speeches in the middle of the streets, no hunting in Central Park. I guess that here they don't have free speech, and people that want to have it are outcasts that are on their own. Here, you don't want to be on your own. The chances of your survival are pretty close to zero.

I kept on walking. "You have a point." I said and bit my lower lip. I hate being wrong. "But I can't just nod my head to everything Jon or Daenerys say."

"No, you don't." Tyrion said. "But you have to follow, whatever decision they're making. Right now, Daenerys is the queen. Jon has the title of king in the north because his people want him to be one, but he's not the person who makes the final decision. He bent the knee to Daenerys already, and swore to follow her."

It made me smile a bit. I already felt like Daenerys is the one with the final word here.

"She asked for you." Tyrion said. "The queen wants to have a word and get to know you in person, even if my judgement of character is great. She wants you to come to her chambers after supper."

I blinked and stopped in my walk. That was surprising, but also convenient. Instead of trying to reach her myself, she's inviting me. Maybe she's going to execute me for burning a whole bunch of bread last morning. Well, nothing to lose. "Sure. I'll be honored." I said and resumed walking. Tyrion chuckled. "Look," He said. "You already learn how to talk of our leaders."

'Yeah, sure. Whatever. I mean, she's the mother of dragons. I don't wanna get on _her_ bad side." I answered and looked at the big weirwood tree when we stopped again.

"Their relationship is a problem, you know." Tyrion said out of the blue.

"What?"

"Jon and Daenerys," He explained himself, "I can see why they fell for each other. But this is such, such an unsmart, dangerous relationship."

I was a bit surprised he said that, just after the little speech he gave me about following your leader's decisions.

"Let me explain myself; both are moral, good leaders, who care for their people. But now they might not make all of their decision based on their care for their people alone-they might make decision based on their love for one another. They could make a lot of people angry… disappointed."

"But that's already happened." I said. "They're in love, Daenerys is pregnant. There's no turning back."

Tyrion looked at me for a while, "You're right." He gave me a knowing look, "Love is something you can't control."

I bit my lip again and looked at the dragons in the sky, far, far away from us. I did what I do best when I want to say smart things. I quoted a rock song.

"Love is blindness."

* * *

I skipped dinner that day. I was mainly practicing with the bow and arrow. Those are the kind of things that are useful, and also help me focus. Clegane passed me by on his way to dinner and looked at me practice.

"Are you too afraid of watching a man shit himself to death?" He asked. "Is that why you're choosing weapons that keep you far from them?" There was something annoyed in his voice, like he doesn't aprove the type of behavior he was talking about.

I looked at him for a moment, "Nope." I said. "I've killed on short range before."

He sniffed and laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. "What is the point of a long-range weapon if you kill at short range?"

"It still gives you a bit of an advantage."

"Hmm." The Hound growled and looked around. "Maybe you're right. I like to look my enemy in the eye," He said, like that was the only right way to do it. "It gives them respect."

I looked at him with a quirked eyebrow, "Is it ever respectful to shit yourself to death?" I used his words. He snorted at me and turned to the doors to the great hall. "Aren't you cold, girl?" He asked. "Don't you want to have some warm wine? You're funnier when you're drunk."

I pressed my lips at him and snorted back, "Not hungry, Clegane, but thanks for the invitation." I looked back at the target. "I need to improve my skills."

"You're right about that." He agreed. "You should learn from a Dothraki archer. These people are fucking beasts."

"Says the one they call The Hound." I answered. I heard another amused snort and the heavy doors to the great hall open. I felt the light from the inside fall on my back, and then it was dark again. The moon and the stars were almost enough to light the whole sparring yard. There where only two torches out. I wondered if I can learn from the Dothraki like he told me. Most of them don't speak English.

I sighed and kept on practicing. When I felt it was time and the hall was emptying, I went inside the castle through a different door, straight into one of the halls. Now, if I remember right, I should be there soon and not get lost in the building.

After ten minutes of walking, I stopped in front of a double door.

Yeah, Daenerys invited me through Tyrion to come, but I wanted to come a speak with her anyways. I wasn't sure what I was doing. It was dumb. I know Jon is thinking he's protecting my life somehow, but it's wrong. And anyway, I could die burning myself in the bakery just as I could die by the hand of the wights, and only one of the options is worth writing a song about.

I looked at the big door. It had a big iron three-headed dragon on it. The red dragon stared at mine with its six eyes. I felt the Unsullied guards' stare at me.

When I approached the door, they didn't block me, they probably expected me. So I took a big breath and knocked on it.

It took a few minutes, but the door opened with a slight creaking noise.

Daenerys wore her stiff war-dress-uniform thing, with her three-headed dragon silver pin and red cloak. "Come in, Andie." She said with a welcoming expression, but not a smile.

But I smiled. Oh, finally! Finally, someone who didn't call me a lady!

"Good evening, your grace," I said with a little bow. "I heard you want to talk."

Daenerys's room was huge. It was full of tapestries of dragons and horses. Her fireplace was the biggest one I saw in anybody's bedroom, and it made it extra hot in there.

"How is your time in the bakery? Do you like it there?" Daenerys asked and sat on a sofa. She gestured with her head for me to sit on the one opposite to hers. The sofas were really close to the fire, so I had to take off my coat before I sat down. "Well…" I bit my lip and looked at the fire. "I love baking, but I think I can do so much more."

Daenerys smiled knowingly, but the smile didn't touch her eyes. It was too polite. "I know," She said and crossed her legs, "I saw it."

I looked around the room, at the windows. I saw there was a doorframe leading to a bathroom with a big stone bath and torches all around it. "Well, you love fire, do you?"

"Fire and Blood, those are the words of my house," Daenerys said. "I'm used to warmth."

So why is she so cold? I guess she's not going to warm up to fast to a stranger.

"Tyrion said you wanted to talk to me." I said, cutting straight to business.

Daenerys nodded. The she looked away, thinking. "Your skills are very useful." She said. "And unexpected. I need you to do something for me, but I wanted to meet you in person first."

I blinked, a bit shocked. Daenerys wants to put me out on the field? But Jon… didn't he tell her he doesn't want to put me in danger? Not that I care too much, the reason _I_ wanted to talk to her was to ask her to got out and fight, be actually helpful in the war. "Jon wants me in the bakery." I said anyways, just in case it's a loyalty test or whatever.

Daenerys turned to face me. "How loyal you are to him?" she asked with a suspecting gaze, "Are you really going to follow him everywhere?"

I felt small in my chair. "Well, you saw yourself I didn't. I barely saw him this whole week."

"Because you were following his orders."

I swallowed. "I didn't have much of a choice… but now…"

Daenerys stood up and walked to the hearth. "I know." She said, "You feel trapped and came up with a plan. You wanted to meet me and ask me to let you fight the White Walkers because Jon will not have you doing it."

I pressed my lips. "Well, yes, kinda. I mean, that's exactly what I was planning."

"I'm not going to let you fight in this war."

I stood up, annoyed. "But you said-"

"I said," Daenerys turned around and looked at me with the fire at her back, "I have something for you to do, but it is not fighting the army of the dead."

I looked around and sighed. "You want to move me from the bakery to the kitchens?" I asked with a frown.

Daenerys chuckled, "No, of course not. Why would I bother telling you that myself?" She pace closer to me, "I have far better plans for you. But first, I need you to swear loyal to me."

I sighed again. I didn't like all of those declarations of loyalty thing. It was very dramatic and made me feel like I'm actually bound to that person right now. But do I want to be bound to Daenerys? I mean, she had dragons. She's the queen. I guess she's kinda awesome when you think about it, freeing slave and all of that.

"What will it mean, if I'll swear for you?"

"It means you will follow me and my decisions to the death. It means you can advise me or tell me when you think I am wrong, but you _will_ obey, whatever the order is. It means you will wear my colors and banners and protect me, my name and my house. And most of all, it means you will have my protection, my loyalty to you, and your enemies will die in flames as high as castle."

That seemed dramatic, but fair.

I nodded and bit my lip. Daenerys stepped closer. "Kneel, and swear for me, and I give you my word that after all of that will end I will help you find the way home."

I didn't like kneeling, but like Tyrion told me today-I need to play by the rules of this world. And I want to get out of the bakery, and help like I know I can. What is bending one fucking knee in order to do all that?

I knelt, as dramatically as possible and said, "I pledge my loyalty to you." I was thinking if I need to add anything, "And my guns, bow and arrow, and my cat too, if you want the cat."

"Rise." She said, and I stood up again. Then she smiled, "I don't need your cat."

I gave her a smile back, "You might regret it. She's lovely."

Daenerys ignored that comment, "I want you to come to my council meeting tomorrow at noon. We will discuss your mission there."


	6. Chapter 6:

**A/N: Hey guys!**

 **I read that some people question the whole swearing fealty/loyalty, Daenerys being a bit of a demanding bish (well, she's a queen and queens tend to** _demand_ **stuff, don't they? I mean, yeah sometimes too much but still), and I agree with it :) That's part of the story though. Andie had to do it to play by the rules of this world, and also achieve what she wanted-to get the fuck out of the castle and into the action (she didn't really think whether she'll regret it or not...). Anyways, yeah, it's a little bit too much to ask of her but Dany asked because that's Dany.**

 **Also, I'm sorry there's not a lot of Jon right now. There will be more of him later, though.**

 **So, yeah. I won't add anymore, and if you have questions you can always PM me.**

 **Enjoy~~~**

* * *

"It wasn't easy," Gendry said. He lifted the gun, "I really did have to be precise with the scale, but I managed to do it, I think."

I looked at the bullet case he made from metal, the kind you shove into the gun to load it. He made three on those, exact copies of the one I brought with me. In those cases, though, there were completely different bullets.

"You'll have to be precise," He continued as I checked everything, "I couldn't mold the dragonglass into whole bullets. There's a bit of it only at the tip of each bullet."

I smiled at him. "Don't worry, I'll be more than precise."

Gendry smiles and wiped some sweat off his forehead. "It was a challenge. The kind of challenge I like," He looked behind his shoulder, "And now, for a different kind of challenge. I'll have to fit the armors to the dragons in a fortnight, so if you'll excuse me,"

"Thanks, Gendry." I said before he disappeared back into the workshop.

Gendry also made me leather cases for the guns that I could strap to my hips. I said I feel like a real cowboy. He didn't get it, especially not why I called myself a 'boy'.

* * *

I went to the sparring yard to find Clegane destroying a human-shaped target with his huge sword. "Hey Clegane." I said simply and stood far behind him, to not get hit. "Who got you so upset?"

He turned around with a gruff snort, "What do ya mean, ya tiny blue-haired fucker?"

I didn't mind his name calling. It was amusing, and I knew there was a little, tiny bit of friendliness in them. "Actually, I don't remember you're ever pleased with anything that's not wine or chicken." I shrugged. "So, who are you killing today?" I asked and gestured to the target with my head. "Is that a wight fucker? A walker fucker? Oh, maybe a talker fucker."

"You're a talker fucker. Cunt." He said and turned to the target. Then he gave a blow so strong it chopped the hand off and went three inches deep into the torso, "But this time like most, it's my cunt of a brother."

"Cunt of a brother?" I asked and sat on a log, "What did he do to you?"

The Hound glared at me, "What didn't he do?" He said with his rusty grumpy voice, "Not just to me. That ugly _thing_ has destroyed more lives than you can count, including mine." He pointed sharply at his face and turned to pull his sword out of the wood, "And the fucker still didn't die when Daenerys took King's Landing. He must be hiding with that bitch cunt Cersei and her cunt loyalists."

"A lot of cunts." I made a smart remark and watched the Hound chop off the other dummy's hand.

"Did I hear my sister's name?" I heard Jaime behind me.

"Fuck off." Sandor Clegane said with poison in his voice, "Like I need another _Lannister_ around." He said the word 'Lannister' as if it was another curse.

Jaime didn't look hurt or scared. "I thought House Clegane was one of our sworn houses."

The Hound's eyes shot daggers at Jaime, "Fuck House Lannister. Fuck your cunt of a sister."

"Wow, guys, let's cool it down. We're on the same side, are we?"

Jaime didn't say anything, but Sandor took his sword and said, "Aye. We are, for now. We'll see who you really are if we're getting out of this mess alive. If not, well, I believe we will be on the same side in the army of the dead." Then he left and didn't look back.

"Oh, well." I said with a sigh. "I need to get used to people's dramatic monologues here. I thought it's just Jon's thing."

There were a few minutes of silence, so I took one of the dragonglass daggers Gendry gave me with the guns and practiced throwing them at the target. It was nothing like guns, or shooting arrows, so I didn't hit the target, the daggers just bumping into the wood on their blunt side and falling to the ground.

"They're not made for long range," Jaime said. "You use them in close combat."

I turned and looked at him after I picked up the dagger. "What do you mean?" I saw people throw daggers from far, in movies and in real life.

Jaime took a few steps forward, his left hand on the hilt of his sword. He gestured at the dagger with his head, "These are made of dragonglass. They can break easily if you just throw them around. They're also too thick to cut the air like steel. You should keep it close, should you lose your arrows and… guns, you called them?"

I smiled, "I never lose my guns," I said proudly, "And I can use them in short range, too," I took a step closer and stood about one feet away from him, "I could kill you right here on the spot, faster than you can draw a knife out."

Jaime looked like he was calculating in his mind. I could see him thinking if he should try and test me, but then he said, "Not with my left arm, for sure. It's not very clean to fight a man that already has a disadvantage." He snorted in his usual arrogant way.

I smirked again and showed him the dagger in the special belt Gendry made me, "You fight with what you have." I said, and walked away, back into the castle.

I just love these dramatic exits. I'm getting good at them. I start to understand Jon.

* * *

In the middle of the meeting room, there was a big table with a painting of Westeros on it. Daenerys stood at the head of it-at the Wall. Tyrion was right next to her. We were a small group of people, and Jon wasn't there.

I stood next to Casterly Rock. Tyrion said it's the seat of his house, if anything will be left of it after the war.

Brienne, the Hound, Missandei, Varys and some Dothraki and Unsullied stood around the table as well.

"I am sending you all south." Daenerys said after the introductions. "I need you the escort Lord Varys and Lord Tyrion to King's Landing."

Tyrion looked surprised and looked at Daenerys, "Excuse me, your Grace, but I thought I was to stay here and help."

Daenerys looked at Tyrion with a faint smile, "You are my Hand, my lord. You have ruled King's Landing as Hand once, and did a good job at it. In my absence, I need someone I trust to rule and heal the city Cersei left in chaos. You have no role in the war with the dead."

Tyrion looked down at the map and pressed his lips, and Daenerys continued. "There's no one I trust more than you for the job. I will give you the men you need."

He nodded, "Yes, my Queen." He said.

"And as for Cersei," Daenerys looked focused and hard again, " _Someone_ is using my banners and name to throw fear in the commoners' hearts."

"Yes, your Grace," Varys said. "Indeed. Several groups of raiders, murderers and rapists are raiding the south villages. The commoners are thinking those are Dothraki screamers, or other soldiers that fight in your name."

"Sounds like the works of my sweet sister," Tyrion said and drummed his fingers on the table in anger. "We are going to take care of that as well, but we cannot spare too many men… most of our forces must stay here. You'll be sending enough with me to King's landing-"

"Yes. My lord." Daenerys stopped him. "But a small force will depart from King's Landing after we will secure your safety in the Red Keep." Then her eyes moved to me. "They will ride south and stop the violence and crime against the smallfolk."

Then Varys whispered something in her ear. She pressed her lips and looked at Tyrion. He nodded.

"We have a word of Cersei's place of hiding." Varys said. "And we will need you to bring her to justice."

"I bet my _brother's_ protecting that cunt." Clegane said. "Where are they?"

"Somewhere in Dorne, apparently."

"But the Dornish men hate Cersei." Daenerys said and moved around the table.

"Since the tragic fall of house Martell and the deaths of the Sand Snakes, Dorne is in chaos. It will be easy to hide in the desert,"

"And send loyalist to torment smallfolk in Targaryen colors." Daenerys completed. "She hopes her lies about me and my armies will convince people that she's the kind ruler? She wants to cause an upraise while I'm fighting in the north to save everyone, including her."

"It seems so." Tyrion said.

I watched, patiently as I could, without interrupting. So it seems we're going to that King's Landing place-their capital city, I guess-and then ride even more south to find those raiders, and then somehow we get to a desert? And then we're going to find that Cersei chick who's also Tyrion's (and Jamie's) sister? Who's a bitch and a liar and all that? Easy peasy. Just give me a trustful GPS and a mini-van for the group. Oh, wait.

"The Hound, Brienne," Daenerys said and then looked at two Dothraki riders to her left. One of them looked like a classic Dothraki-if there's such a thing-dark, tall, made of mainly muscle and a long, long black braid. The other one was a bit smaller-which meant he only passed me in two heads instead of three and a half like the others-and he was leaner. He had greenish eyes and a long braid as well, "You'll be joind by two of my best bloodriders, who also speak the common tongue. Bono and Joqhu."

I tried not to laugh. The Bono _I_ know is the farthest thing from a Dothraki. I wonder if he's going to like any of U2's songs.

"You will lead thirty good men south to defeat Cersei and her loyalists." Daenerys said.

"Thirty men?" Brienne asked. "I heard there are at least a hundred still loyal to the Mad Queen. How are we to defeat them all?"

Daenerys smiled. "I'm sure you are all capable of killing three men each," She said, then looked around the table. "And I'm also sending with you something they wouldn't expect." Then she looked at me, "I'm sending you with Andie."

* * *

The room was empty now, except for Tyrion and me. I wanted to go out and ask Brienne why she's joining, since I know she's suppose to protect Sansa and Arya. Maybe they sent her, but why? I guess they have some unfinished business with Cersei as well. That women pissed off a lot of people, it seems.

Before I got out of the door, Tyrion started talking. "So we're going south. It's nice down there," He smiled and pour wine into his goblet. "the weather is much better, that I can promise." Tyrion poured wine in a second goblet. I wonder why they have wine in their war council room, but I didn't ask. I looked at him, not sure I want to drink. I have to get ready, because we're heading out at what they call 'first light'. I circled the goblet with my finger.

"Are you excited, going back to the capital?" I asked him, "And away from the cold?"

"It's already snowing there as well," Tyrion said with a sigh, "But not as badly. So yes, I am excited for the change pf temperature. Not for the city itself, though."

I was a bit confused. "What is wrong with the city?"

"Well, people hated me there. They called me a demon-monkey the Imp of Casterly Rock. I bet they will again, when they see me. I was blamed for murdering my cruel and repulsive nephew, who was the king at the time."

I snorted, "Well, if you talk about him that way, why wouldn't they think you did?" I asked sarcastically. "Was he that bad?"

"He was beyond bad, but I did not kill him. I _did_ kill my lord father."

"Wow, that's tough."

Tyrion gave me a coy smile, then drank from his goblet. "But I will fix the city. There's much fixing to be done, but I will. Tell me, Andie, how many people in your country are literate?"

I raise my eyebrows. "That's a weird question," I said, thinking. "I guess most of them are, on different levels. Why are you asking?"

He was thinking and drinking again, "that's interesting. By most, do you count only the rich and powerful and their peers?"

"Nope. By 'most' I mean most."

Tyrion walked around the table and stopped at King's Landing. "You see, Andie, here only the highborn, the knights and the lords and maybe some merchants are literate. Most of the smallfolk, the unlucky, don't know how to spell their own name. How many people are in your country?"

"Hmm. A lot. About three-hundred million."

Tyrion's eyes widen in shock. " _Million?!"_

"A bit more than that."

"That's indeed a lot of people." He laid his hand on the capital, "How did you manage to teach so many people to read?"

I shrugged. "Schools. Public schools, private schools, boarding schools. A place were kids go from a young age and learn all of that stuff. Reading, writing, mathematics, science. Basic things."

" _Science_?" Tyrion asked, amazed. "You think _science_ is _basic_?"

"I mean, basic science is." I tried to explain myself, "Like… what is flammable, or about the solar system-the planets, the sun and the moon. Or about animals, or how the human body functions." I didn't really go to school myself, since I was trained to be an assassin and I was pretty much detached from normal society, but we had our tutors that taught us all of these things.

Tyrion smiled to himself, "One day, I hope to achieve a society like that. A society in which most people know how to read. Smarter people make for harder people to rule, but for reasonable people to rule as well. Lies like Cersei's won't affect them like they do now."

I nodded in agreement. It was absurd to me that most of the people could not read. Well, they didn't have print yet, and I know that the print revolution was a big part of teaching the commoners to read in our world. "You're going to do well in King's Landing." I said. "I wish my leader was like you. Thinking about the people instead of his own needs."

I decided to drink. The wine was sweet, and I could see how easy it is to get drunk on it.

"I heard you have sworn your allegiance to our queen."

My eyes dropped to the map on the table. "I did," I said. "I don't know if it was the smartest thing to do, but I want to go out of here. I want to help, and I took your advice."

"I know Queen Daenerys can be… demanding, sometimes. She admits it herself. But she's a visionary. Visionaries want other people to see their visions, and most people only see the intensity."

I pressed my lips. He's right that she's demanding. "A visionary? What _is_ her vision?"

"She has some experience conquering and ruling." He said. "But that's the place she calls home."

"A place she didn't grow up in." I said, a bit annoyed. "I heard she freed slaves, Tyrion. My home country had its ugly history with slaves. That's why I thought…"

Tyrion caught my eyes with his. "She's not a diplomat." He said. "Daenerys truly believes in her house's words."

 _Fire and Blood_ , I remembered. "She's not a forgiving person." I said.

Tyrion fiddled with his goblet, "Not very much." Tyrion looked out of the window at the snowy forest, "Before we crossed the Narrow Sea, Daenerys told me she is going to break the wheel. By 'the wheel' she meant the strong, rich houses. The existing order in which the smallfolk are completely ignorant and dependent on the highborn's protection and strength. In big wars, some of the houses will kill the commoners… I'm ashamed to say that was one of my father's war tactics." Tyrion looked back at his goblet, "Daenerys wants to stop that. She wants justice." Then he took a big gulp of his wine.

I sighed and sat on the chair next to me. I believed in a lot of things I heard about Daenerys. I think her causes are right, but at what cost? Then again, I live in a middle-age like world, and even though I live in a castle with resources and highborn civilized people, I could feel the rules here are different. People have different views. They understand power, sometimes more than words and mercy. But does Daenerys know how to balance them?

"My sweet sister is pregnant," Tyrion said out of the blue. I looked at him, surprised.

"Oh, now it's going to be easy… to know I'm taking a pregnant woman to her own death." I said bitterly. Will the Queen wait until Cersei gives birth? Will she see her child a threat to her own?

Tyrion sighed and drank some wine. "She's the worst person I know. I mean, her first son was disgusting, as I told you. A cruel coward with too much luck to have so much power. But her cruelty… she's evil. She murdered and betrayed and ruined people's lives. She should die. I want her dead just as Arya Stark does. Even more."

I looked at him, confused. "So why would you care about her baby?"

"It's still my blood that babe is going to share. Her two younger children were innocent. They were good kids, and their deaths were tragic." Tyrion looked down at Casterly Rock from across the table, "It would also break Jaime's heart if the babe will die."

"Jaime? He's her twin, right? So the kid will be his nephew or niece as well."

Tyrion was thinking. He sighed, "Well, it's not such a secrete anymore," He mumbled, "Maybe I'm too drunk but I'll tell you this anyways." He sipped more wine, "Jaime is also the father."

"The father of…?"

"Cersei's child. Children. All of them."

I couldn't speak for a moment. Ok, so I dealt with the fact Jon and Daenerys are related. They didn't know they are when they fell for each other, and her being his aunt is still weird. But Jaime is Cersei's _twin_. And they grew up together. Ugh.

I wanted to gag, but reminded myself that that world had different rules and logic.

"I know, it's wrong on some levels. Many levels." Tyrion agreed with my expression, 'But my brother used to love my sister with all his heart. He would kill for her. He almost did, actually. But he's a changed man. He left her. He took away her army. He… well, I hope he doesn't love her anymore."

"You people are fucked up." It's all I had to say.

"The reason I tell you this," Tyrion said, "I don't want the babe to die. If she gives birth before you get here… please, let the child live. Give him to a kind common family to love him, let him grow without knowing any of it if you must. I don't know if Daenerys will show him mercy."

I bit my lower lip. I didn't want to think Daenerys will harm an innocent child. I hope she won't, anyways. I mean, I swore for her and all of that crap. What will happen if I'll refuse to kill a baby? Will she burn me with him instead? Ii decided to stop thinking about it, because it gave me a headache.

But I also respect Tyrion's wish.

I nodded. "I'll do my best to make sure the child is safe." I said.

Tyrion smiled and offered raised goblet, "To the fucked-up people of Westeros." He said and made me smile. I raised my goblet as well.

"To the fucked-up people of Westeros." I agreed and took a big, sweet sip of wine.

* * *

I got ready at night. I had my three set of clothes-the first one was the warmest, for the north, Then there was the one for in between-the Riverlands, and then some nice clothes for the desert of Dorne. All of them had some symbolic Targaryen colors-black and red. They weren't completely black and red, but it was obvious I was the queen's… well, property. The cape I had for the north was heavy and very dark grey with some red lining. The coat I had for the Riverlands was light brown with a giant red three-headed dragon on the back. My boots were black with some red leather strips around them. I didn't know how Daenerys got all of that stuff made so quickly, but I definitely represented her house.

I had my guns with the normal bullets and the ones with the dragongalss bullets ready. I had the daggers, the fencing sword and my backpack.

I did my best to sleep well, but couldn't. When it was still dark out, I decided to dress and walk on the walls of Winterfell.

It was freezing as fuck out here, but I didn't mind. I started to get used to that kind of cold. I didn't know if I'm ever going back home, and I badly missed a proper shower-with shampoo and soap and everything. I missed my friends, and I missed my cat.

I heard footsteps in the snow, and I was ready to explain myself to a guard when I was blinded by the light of a torch.

After I got used to the burning fire, I saw it was Jon.

I didn't talk with him, and tomorrow I'm leaving. I felt bad, really bad. He was my friend. I went behind his back and talked with his girlfriend-slash-queen and it wasn't about a surprise birthday party.

"What are you doing here?" Jon asked, "It's too cold for you."

I looked away, at the forest beyond the walls. "I can't sleep."

"Are you nervous for tomorrow?"

I looked at him, surprised he knew.

Jon smiled a half-mocking smile, "Do you except me not to know what is done in my own castle?'

I pressed my lips and looked forward again. Jon stood next to me and place the torch in a metal stand. "You're upset with me." I said.

"Of course I am, Andie!" Jon said louder than I expected, "You're going to get yourself killed!"

I kept looking forward, "I decide whether I should risk my life or not." I was stubborn like a kid.

Jon sighed and shuffled a little. "Since last night, it's Daenerys to make that decision." He said grumpily. So I guess he knows I pledged loyal to her too. Then he looked at me with a faint smile, "No, I'm wrong." he almost whispered, "You are the one to make that choice. You are always the one to make those choices." And that was it. We stood there, on the wall, shoulder to shoulder, looking at the horizon in the freezing night.

"I am sorry I couldn't spend more time with you." He said suddenly. "It's not the best way to make you feel at home, is it?"

"Nope." I agreed. "But I always have the Hound." We shared a small laugh, and then I added, "You're a shitty host."

"And a busy King."

"And an idiot, over-protective friend."

"Aye." Jon sighed. I played with some snow with my gloved hand. It became quiet again. I knew that he's not going to stay in place either. There's a war up there somewhere, whereever it's colder and harder, and way more dangerous.

I heard a wolf's cry in the distance and a bit of purple light showed at the east.

"You should go get ready," Jon said and turned to me. I glanced to his direction and he placed a gloved hand on my shoulder, "Try not to get yourself killed."

I gave him a tight smile, "You too." I said, looking in his dark warm eyes. I already miss him. It's not fair. That world is not fair.

He gave me the same bitter sweet smile and kissed my forehead, then left to wherever he was going. I closed my eyes, took a big breath and opened them again.

It's time to go.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:**

 **Hi guys!**

 **Well finally, some other POV's... I remind you, I write the other POV's in thierd person. I don't know why, it works better for me haha XD**

 **Aaaanyways, hope you'll enjoy! I love th reviews, too. Helps me remember I'm not just throwing stuff in the air without anyone noticing.**

 **PM me for any question!**

* * *

It was cold at the gates of Winterfell. Most of the people were mounted on their horses. We had some wagons as well. I looked around at the people-Tyrion in a big fur coat on a horse with a special saddle, the Hound and a big stallion in black armor and a big hooded cape. Brienne was telling Podrick how to do something, and he looked confused in whatever he was trying to do. I was thinking of walking, since I'm not into riding any animal, when Daenerys stood next to me.

She wore a long, worm gold and cream dress and clasped her fingers together. "Jon is angry with me, you know." She said with a faint smile, like it's amusing.

"Because you let me go?" I asked, fumbling with my gloves.

The queen looked at me, "Yes, that too." She said. "I want to make sure you know what it means to be loyal for someone."

"I know," I said. _But I'm more flexible than your weird stiff culture._ "It's not like I have any other options right now."

"The only thing at stake is your honor,"

"I don't have much of that anyways."

"And your life."

"Well, I actually like _that_ limited resource."

A big Dathraki guy, not from our group, came over with a beautiful stallion at his tow. She was brown with a white strike on her nose. Classic. "Does she have a name?" I asked.

"Dothraki do not name their horses." Daenerys said.

I looked up at the horse. I'm not a Dothraki. "I'll call her Diana." _Princess of Themyscira._

Daenerys didn't seem to care about that. She looked at the skies, searching.

I looked at the queen, wondering. Yes, she looked tough. She looked like she'll burn anyone who's in her way. But I could also see vulnerability. "Can I ask you a question?" And then I remembered my courtesies, "You Grace?"

Daenerys turned to look at me, "Yes, Andie."

I tried to think how to put it. I sighed and looked at my feet. "Will you ever hurt a child? An e _nemy's_ child?"

She looked surprised, her violet eyes widening. "Do I strike you as someone this cruel?"

I felt a bit ashamed to assume that. I know Daenerys is strong, and Tyrion said she's not the forgiving type. But it doesn't mean she'll harm innocents, right?"

"I'm not sure." I said. "I want to believe you're not a cruel person."

Daenerys sighed and crossed her arms across her chest. "My father was a mad man," She said, "'The Mad King', they called him. He used to be graceful in his youth, loved by his people. But he grew bored, and tired, and started to see enemies in everyone. He wouldn't let anyone cut his hair or nails in fear of treason." Daenerys stepped closer to Diana and ran her fingers through her main gently, "He became cruel, and a coward, hiding behind the walls of the Red Keep, torturing people. He was enjoying watching his make-believe enemies burn to death by wild fire." Daenerys turned to me, "When the war started I wasn't even born. My mother and brother, Viserys, ran to Dragonstone. But my older brother, Rhaegar, was already a great worrier, married to Elia Martell, and father to two children, had stayed and fought n the war. Rhaegar died by the war-hammer of the envious Usurper, and when the Lannisters sacked King's Landing and the Kingslayer rightfully drew his sword through my father's back, my brother's children, rightful heirs to the throne, were slaughtered viciously by the hands of Tywin Lannister's man-Ser Gregor Clegane." _The Hound's brother_ , I remembered. "I will _not_ take part in the murdering of children or the raping of their mothers. I will not give the order to take a child's life for the crimes of his parents. I am not Tywin Lannister, or the Usurper Robert Baratheon."

I sighed in relief, because I believed her. It seemed Daenerys was repulsed by the idea of hurting children. She might be unforgiving, but Cersei's the one to be punished, not her unborn baby.

"What will you do with an enemy's child, then?" I asked.

"After retaking Winterfell, Jon spared the young lord and lady of the houses that failed him in the north. He did not disown them from their property, and did not put a mark on their Houses names, in an act and lesson of kindness. We cannot fight among ourselves." Daenerys stepped back from Diana, "I would take them as wards, to learn from the people I believe in, and grow up in a community that holds the values I believe in. The _right_ values."

That seemed reasonable. Better than murdering infants.

"Have you ever met my children, Andie?" Daenerys asked with her palm across her belly. I knew she didn't mean that child.

"Not in person," I said. "I saw one of them fly high, too far for me to get a good look."

It made Daenerys smile in a bit of amusement as she looked at the skies, then her expression turned bittersweet. "They miss their brother."

I pressed my lips. "I'm sorry," I said softly, "I can't even start to imagine… Jon told me about it. What was his name?"

"Visserion," Daenerys said as her expression turned darker. "My beautiful cream-and-gold, the smallest of my children. He didn't deserve that. None of them did." She turned to me and with a serious, sharp look she half-declared, "I'm going to destroy the Night King for what he did to my son. I will destroy his army until they all turn to ashes, frozen back in their winter lands."

I looked at the sky, searching for a dragon. "I'm sure you will, my Queen."

Daenerys gave an order in Dothraki and two big men approached us. They picked me up without warning and placed me on Diana. I felt weird, so high up there. "How do you…"

"Give her a little kick." Offered one of the mounted Dothraki. It was the one from the meeting, with the greenish-brownish eyes. Johqu. He had a faint accent, but spoke way better than Bono.

I didn't want to kick the horse. It's enough that I'm on her back. I looked down at Daenerys. "Stay safe." I said. "And don't drink wine, by the way. That's for the baby."

She quirked an eyebrow at me. "I wish you good fortune." She said formally, then she smiled. "I'll be expecting you here as soon as possible, with the prisoner at hand."

I nodded and looked back at the walls of Winterfell. Arya was sitting on top of one of them, watching. She waved to me lazily. Next to her stood Sansa, and some other people. I looked forward, at the group. Jaime was talking to Tyrion. He looked annoyed but I couldn't hear what they were talking about. Probably Cersei. Everyone looked annoyed one they talked about Cersei. Oh, how I'm waiting to meet that lady.

* * *

/Zee/

Zee looked around the room. Her apartment was small, and everyone in it made it smaller. So much harder to meditate than usual. She was holding tight on Andie's shirt-something she grabbed from her apartment while feeding the cat, so she can use it as a way to find a connection with her friend.

Why, oh why did she have to get on a different dimension? And why all of their friends had to come over and watch her do her thing, like it's interesting to watch?

"I'm worried." Sean declared for the one hundredth time and stood up to limp across the living room.

"No, really?" Dakota asked as he played Plants vs Zombies on his phone. "I didn't notice. Like, I mean, we're all just _fine_ with Andie missing for more than a month in a medieval world that had giant wolves and _dragons_."

"It just drives me crazy that I can't do anything to help!" Sean almost exploded.

"You can start with feeding the cat when it's your turn," Karen suggested, "And water the plants."

"Urrgghhh!"

Mika was sitting from across the room. He made her wall into a big board full of equations Zee could not even start to understand. "I don't get it." Mika said. "I just don't fucking get it. Theoretically, yes, it's possible. But how do you explain the phone call? The disappearance? The appearance of a giant _magic tree_ in the heart of the film industry?"

Zee sighed and stood up. "All of you, out. Out into your lives. Go, there's work to be done tomorrow."

Karen nodded and stood from her seat on the rocking chair. "Zee's right. Just sitting here waiting for something to happen wouldn't help. We need to go on, work. Andie will kill us if she'll find out that's what we've been doing all day long."

"And I also can't concentrate when you all talk that much." Zee added. Sean looked annoyed, but didn't say anything. Zee knew he was worried sick. He and Andie shared a lot of their weird past.

At the end, they were all out and Zee was with her silence again. She closed her eyes and held the shirt tight. Maybe she was doing it wrong?

She shifted her mind to focus on a raven. How did Jon call him? The Three Eyes Raven.

And then she was in that bright plain again, standing in front of Bran Stark.

"Finally," Zee said. "I've been trying to reach your world forever."

Bran looked at her numbly. "What is it that you're looking for?" He asked. Zee wanted to face-palm so hard right now. She wanted to answer _'I'm looking for a good banana pie recipe, I thought you might know one.'_

"My friend, Andie." She said. "I know she's somewhere around. Can you tell me if she's fine?"

Bran blinked, then his eyes rolled back and turned white. A moment later his eyes rolled again and he looked at her. "She's fine."

"More detail?"

"You friend Andie is on a mission given by Queen Daenerys. She's riding south for more than a fortnight now."

"WHAT?"

"She couldn't find a way back. She wanted to help and pledged loyal to the queen."

"What does it mean?"

"I don't think your friend is completely familiar with our customs here," Bran said, "It means that she must follow Daenerys no matter what."

At first, Zee was scared for Andie. Then she remembered it was _Andie_ , and there are not such thing as _must_ and _no matter what_.

"Can you send her a message?" Zee asked. "Tell her we're trying to find a way to bring her back. And tell her I trust her to do the right things when she needs too."

Bran was silent for a moment, then nodded. "I'll send a raven. The letter will wait for her in King's Landing."

Zee blinked. "You're sending letters with ravens?"

"With what else should we send them?" Bran asked, puzzled, and then everything disappeared and Zee was back in her empty living room again.

* * *

/Jon/

Jon looked out through the window, wondering. Andie would probably make fun of him because of that. She'll say he's brooding again, or that if there was a tournament of broodiness he would've won.

The skies were clear today. They were cloudy at the morning, when the small expedition left for King's Landing. All around the Winterfell there were campfires and campers. The Winter Town was lively with merchants and commoners who came to seek refuge. Jon sighed and closed his eyes for a brief moment. Soon he will leave to save another village, hopefully reach there before the army of the dead.

Things were simpler in New York, but Jon didn't turn king to mop for happier days. It wasn't time to rest and dwell on summers and chocolate.

He remembered the day he came back to Westeros.

He just wanted to ask Andie the last question in their little questions game-he wanted to know if she knew what was her real name-but then she surprised him with a hug. Andie was small, and she was crying, and held him tighter than he though a human can, especially with all of that armor and fur he was wearing. Then a bright white light blinded him, and they were standing on a snowy hill about half a mile away from Winterfell, in the midst of a snow storm. Jon didn't know what to do. He was shocked, and when he looked down, Andie was still there, clutching and burying her face in his chest-plate, as if she did not notice the change. When she took a step back, Jon knew by the way her expression changed she now noticed where they were. Her honey colored eyes grew with surprise and she started to shiver madly with cold. Jon took another look at her and remembered she was wearing summer clothes-the kind of summer clothes you will wear in _her_ world, not his.

Jon freed his hand from the pile of flamethrowers when he noticed Ghost was gone, running to Winterfell in the distance. He went to call for help.

Andie's lips were almost purple in the few seconds before Jon could wrap her in his fur cloak between his arms, "Andie!" He shouted, but she didn't seem to understand or hear him. The wind was blowing hard and she couldn't stop shivering. "Andie! Listen to me, don't black out, do you hear me? Help in on the way." But her eyelids grew heavy. Jon heard a cry of a dragon. _Daenerys_ , he thought. Andie turned limp in his arms and he drew her even closer in an effort to warm her better. Jon heard the batting of hue wings when the dragon landing before him.

At first Jon thought it was Drogon, but the coloring was different. It was hard to see through the blowing snowy winds, but Jon got a glimpse of green and copper. _Rhaegal_ , he thought. _The one named after my… after my father by blood._ Rhaegar might've been Jon's true father, but he died before he was born. Ned Stark was and always will be a father to Jon, just like he couldn't think of himself as Aegon.

Jon lifted Andie in his arms. The flamethrowers and the blowtorches will have to wait out here. He walked to the dragon, who spread his wing for him, just like Drogon did for Daenerys. _He grew_ , Jon thought, _I wonder how big is his brother._

Slowly, Jon made sure Rhaegal really wants him around. He felt safe, even a connection with the beast, almost like the connection he had with Ghost. He climbed and sat at the dragon's neck with Andie cradled safely in his arm, leaning on him so his other arm will be free to hold one of the spikes. Andie will go mad learning she flew on a dragon without being conscious. Maybe it will be for the best not to tell her.

It was also the first time Jon flew on the back of a dragon. He didn't think of it when he climbed on Rhaegar, because he was too concerned with Andie and the cold, but as the dragon started to beat his wings Jon's heart was racing.

And then they were in the sky. Winterfell wasn't far and the flight was short, but Jon remembered it well-the icy wind, the distance from the ground-almost as high as the Wall itself. Rhaegal was warmer than any living being Jon knew of-like standing next to a fire. Drogon appeared above their heads and flew with them to the castle.

They landed as the gates opened and people came running out with Ghost at tow. Jon climbed off Rhaegal with Andie in his hands, and the dragon took his leave, batting his green wings and soaring to the sky with a swirl of wind behind him.

"Jon!" He heard Arya calls him. "Jon!" She called again. People ran to him as he walked to the gate, urging to bring Andie inside and put her in warm clothes next to a hearth.

And then there was Daenerys-beautiful as he remembered her, silver-haired and lavender-eyed in one of her war coats. "Jon?" She asked and looked up to the sky, at her children who circled Winterfell from above.

"I need help," he found himself breath out. "She had to be brought in. She's going to freeze to death." And then Daenerys' eyes found Andie in his hands between the furs. She looked back at him with thousands of questions in her eyes, but called her Dathraki men to carry Andie inside. Jon looked up at the bloodrider who stood in front of him, offering his hands to carry his friend. He looked down at Andie again and took off his cloak, wrapping it around her to make sure she will be warm on the way inside. The big man lifted her up like she weighed nothing and ran inside.

Jon felt the tight hug of his sister, Arya, and looked around him. All the people he missed-Sansa, Bran, Sam, Davos… and Daenerys. How worried she must have been.

He hugged Arya back, smiling in relief. "Arya," he breathed out. "I hope you didn't use Needle on Sansa while I was gone."

Arya chuckled as she drew out of the hug. "I tried." She shrugged.

After many hugs and welcomes, Jon was worried for Andie again. They went inside the safe walls of Winterfell. He looked around, not sure where they took her.

"No worries, Jon. She will be fine. Dorru took her to a warm chamber, and I had maids to take care of her." Jon noticed Daenerys again behind him. "Come with me." She said and walked passed him into the castle.

Daenerys chose the warmed chambers in Winterfell, but other than the grey stone and furs on the bed, it wasn't very recognizable. Everything was embodied with dragons, red and black colors and tapestries.

There, without all the watching eyes. They could finally embrace each other. Even cry. Leaders couldn't show weakness of any kind outside the safety of their privacy. Jon wouldn't care, but he knew others will. Sansa reminded him again and again that he is sometimes too naïve in his actions.

Jon held Daenerys tight and buried his face in her hair, taking in the smell of perfumes and the faint scent of smoke. "I didn't know when I will see you again," He murmured, "I worried I never…"

"You're here." Daenerys said. "It's all fine now."

He drew back, "Aye. It is for now." Jon glanced to the window, to the snowy exterior. Where is he, where is that Night King?

Then he looked down at his queen again, and placed his hand on her belly. She didn't say a thing, but he saw her worry through her eyes, so he kissed her, he kissed her to promise everything will be fine. Their child will not be born to a war, or so he hoped.

They broke the kiss and Jon kept his forehead on hers with closed eyes, trying to enjoy and memorize every moment before he'll have to be King again.

Daenerys chuckled, "Tyrion says I should stop flying into fight. Drogon almost defied me once and wouldn't let me climb o his back. They're all too worried. My Hand already sees himself as a lucky uncle."

"I wonder what my brother and sisters think." Jon opened his eyes, and saw her smile. It was the sad kind of smile, because both of them knew all of it was wrong-that was not a time for babes and children. But Daenerys told him she could not have children, and now that she is with one… Jon wasn't sure what to think, except for the fact that he cared for that unborn baby as he cared for Daenerys, even more.

There was a knock of the door and both of them jumped out of their embrace. Daenerys stepped forward and stood all queenly again, concealing any vulnerability Jon saw in her before. Sometimes he envied her ability to do it so well.

Behind the door was a maid, who bowed. "Your Grace, the maester said our guest will be well. She is still in deep sleep, but will wake on the morrow."

"Thank you, Jeyne." Daenerys said with a small polite smile.

"Also, the Lord Hand wanted to see you and Lord Snow."

"It can wait for the morrow as well." Daenerys said.

"His lordship says it is urgent."

Daenerys sighed and pressed her lips. "Bring him in for supper. We will have it in my chambers."

"Yes, you Grace." The maid bowed and Daenerys closed the door. Jon was relieved to hear Andie was fine.

"I should go and wait for her to wake up," He said. "She's going to be very confused when it happens."

" _Who_ is she, if we're taking about her?" Daenerys asked.

"It's Andie," Jon said. "She is the one who brought me back. She was my host and guide in that strange land they call the United States of America."

Daenerys quirked an eyebrow. "Why is she here?"

"I do not know," Jon said, "And I also do not know how to help her back." He went for the door, "I need to see if she's doing well-"

"Jon, I didn't see you in more than a fortnight, please." Daenerys out a hand on his shoulder. "We heard she is doing well, and it's no just me who missed you. What sitting in a room with a sleeping person will help? You're needed here. A lot happened in your absence."

Jon swallowed and looked back at her. She was right, of course, but he was worried. Still, there was much to be learned and meetings to attend. He had his responsibilities again. He will see Andie when she will wake up.

Or so he hoped.

/

And now, more than a month after they arrived, Andie was riding south, far from him and far from Winterfell. A part of him scolded himself or letting her go so easily. How can she keep safe out there, in a place she barely heard of? She might have her guns and the Hound and Brienne, but Jon still worried. In his mind, Andie was as good as defenseless. She was clueless when it came to these people and their world.

The other part of him scolded himself for being over-protective, controlling almost. Andie was an adult… well, not always by behavior, but by age for sure. She should make her decisions by herself. So why did she give her loyalty, her life, to the queen? To _his_ queen?

And he was also mad with himself for being too busy. When he appeared in her home in New York, she barely thought twice before helping him and introducing him to her world. She didn't see the urgency in bringing him back at first, but he was a stranger and she fed him and bathed him and payed for that weird food cabinet… vending machine, was it? When they got here, to Winterfell Andie was much more than a stranger to him, yet he couldn't put her on top of his priorities, not even close.

Jon sat on his bed and looked at the armor he was about to wear. He should call for his squire to help him, but there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," He called, expecting his squire or Davos. But it was Daenerys, entering the room, already in her fighting and flying gear.

They had a big argument after Andie was sent south, but they didn't have much time to solve it. Jon didn't see the point to it anyway. What was done was done.

"I see you're ready." Jon said, but didn't raise from his bed. Daenerys smiled at him, that kind smile she saved for only her closest and stood before him, almost towering over him as he was sitting on the bed. "I am," she said softly, "are you?"

Jon sighed. He didn't like her flying into battle, not now with their unborn child inside her. It was barely showing under all of her clothing, but Jon already saw the little bump many, many times.

He placed his hands on her hips and drew her closer so he can plant a kiss on her belly. "Ii don't like this," He whispered.

"Me neither," she answered quietly. "I thought that by now I would rule the Seven Kingdoms… but here we are, fighting those _demons._ "

"If Rhaegal just let me ride him again, you wouldn't have to come." Jon said as he buried his face deeper into her dress, "You shouldn't come."

"You need me. The people need me, they need to see me there… and also, our people didn't master the flamethrowers yet."

Jon sighed and pulled back to look back at her, and stood up. " _Our_ people?" He asked, a bit surprised. Daenerys picked up the breast plate and helped him wear it.

She started fastening it, "My heir is growing inside me. It happens to be, it's your heir as well." Daenerys started to tie the knots carefully, "Tyrion figured… my heir shouldn't be a bastard."

Jon's breath stopped for a moment. He remembered what Andie told him back in California when they got ready. She told him that if he's the king, he should change the way people treat and see bastards. He himself grew up believing to be a bastard, and a lucky one at that.

What Daenerys was suggesting, was also something Jon wasn't expecting at all.

"My Hand says it will be a good distraction from the winter and the war," she continued. "He advised me and said it will make the northerners happy, and even the rest of the Westerosi as well. We will have a celebration, a feast."

Jon searched the room with his eyes. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure if it was the right thing, not now. It seemed rushed, strange. He loved Daenerys, that he knew. He loved that unborn child. And he did his best to ignore the fact that she is his aunt.

When his eyes reached Daenerys' he saw doubt and worry in them. It was taking to long for him to answer. "Do you think it's a mistake?" She asked, and he heard the hurt in her voice.

"No." He said quickly. "Not at all. I'm a bit shocked by the proposal… I…" He turned to the window and looked at the thousands of tents in the snow, the little bonfires feeling the plains and the hills like stars and suns.

Daenerys stood behind him to tie the last knot. "You don't have to decide now," She said more understandably. "There are other things, more urgent things."

Jon tuned to her and placed his hands on her waist, "Aye," He agreed and leaned in to kiss her gently.

When they parted he moved to put on the rest of his gear and his cloak. "Any word from the south?" He asked with Andie in mind.

"Asking for it three times a day will not make the ravens fly faster." Daenerys said with a bit of amusement, but there was also a faint bitterness to her voice. "I am sure they are well. I'm sure _she's_ well."

* * *

/~Andie~/

I hate riding.

I fucking _hate it._

Two and a half weeks on the saddle-and I feel bad for myself just as I feel bad for the horse that had the hear my complaints. Poor Diana is not the one to blame for my aching, burning thighs and soar muscles.

My clothes were protecting and warm, and I loved my black cloak with the hood that kept me dry, but it was still icy and col outside. Only after two and a half weeks the weather started to get warmer-the heavy snow changing into soft snow that covered only three or two inches of ground.

Now we just rode out of the keep that hosted us for the night. We passed the Twins, two castles that used to belong to House Fray. Brienne told me about their betrayal, and the Red Wedding. I remembered Jon mentioning that in his stories about his family, about his brother Robb. Well, technically a cousin, but they grew up as brothers.

I looked at the ugly towers as we passed them. Brienne said the Red Wedding was avenged, and with a little smirk she added most people don't know by who, but now the castles are standing almost deserted and full of tales about a faceless girl shapeshifter with a need for revenge that haunts the places. She had wared the serving girls that winter is coming.

 _Arya_ , I thought to myself, somewhat proudly.

I felt the glances of Joqhu the Dothraki at me. He was giving me suggesting looks quite often and I wasn't sure how to feel about them. He always lifted me up on Diana with this weird, almost mocking smile. I didn't know if he was mocking me or hitting on me.

Maybe both.

I mean, yeah, he actually looked good. His hair was too long for my taste-like really, really fucking long-but he had nice features and a body of a real fighter.

But again, I don't know what to think. I can always have a fling to forget about me falling hard for Jon, but what good will it do me? I shouldn't fall for anyone else here. I can't risk it.

Also, his hair is really _fucking_ _long_.

I rode next to Brienne, wanting to think of something else, I remembered I wanted to talk with her after the meeting but Tyrion caught me first.

"So, Brienne," I started. "Why are you here? I thought you swore for Sansa and Arya. Aren't you suppose to stay and protect her?"

Brienne had a permanent scold on her face. "Sansa is protected by her very skillful sister. I am not just their bodyguard, I am also the one to do their biddings when needed. The ladies can't always leave Winterfell, much more for such long journeys."

"Um." I scratched my chin. "So why did they send you here?"

Brienne looked around and saw nobody was listening. She straightened on her saddle. "Lady Arya wanted me to make sure no accidents happen and that Cersei Lannister is brought alive to Winterfell."

"Why is that?"

"She wants to be the executioner."

Daenerys gave me her answer for what she would do with an enemy's child. But what about Arya?

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Well, that was a long one. Longest I ever wrote, actually :O**

 **Leave your thoughts in the comments!**

 **phew, I'm trying to be a faithful to cannon when it come to characters' personalities but with so many of them it's getting hardXD**

 **~A Girl Had Many Names~**


	8. Chapter 8: On the Road Again

**A/N:**

 **Hey peeps!**

 **Guest, to your question-there'll be an answer in that chapter :)**

 **Enjoy your reading~**

* * *

The land was beautiful. Rivers and small springs filled the lightly snow-covered valley and forests. Diana was happy to find fresh and green grass beneath the white, cold covers.

We camped on a gigantic lake's shore, about four miles west from a burnt and broken huge castle. Tyrion told me its name is Harrenhal, and he told me the stories of this place. "It is said it's a cursed, haunted castle. Too big to take care of, too. Every House that was given Harrenhal and its lands ended in a tragic way. Well, its first residants-Harren the Black and his sons-all died inside, cooked in the flames of Balerion the Dread. I believe our Queen's own Drogon is almost his size."

Even with the snow outside, the superstitious Dothraki wouldn't enter the grounds of the castle. They have heard enough, and they said that one look at the blackened molten stones and the lingering misshaped towers were a big warning sign of spirits and ghosts.

I didn't really mind. The huge castle wasn't very inviting anyway.

My tent and equipment were already packed and I had some breakfast, sitting on a log and watching the sun hit the water of the huge lake. God's Eye, they called it, because it had an island in it that made it look like a big blue eye on a map.

"Are you ready to ride, _Princess of Beans?_ " I heard a voice and frowned in annoyance.

I'm not sure when Johqu started to call me that. Probably after he offered me a bite of the rabbit he caught and roasted on the fire a few days ago. I tried to explain to him I don't eat meat, not when I have other options like that nice beans stew, and since then he found it amusing. He said it will make me weak. I stomped on his foot and ask if that feels weak to him.

He said yes.

"I don't know who that princess is, but she's definitely not here." I said with irritation. Johqu had a playful smile anyways, and my irritation seemed to amuse him. I stood up and looked at the camp. I mean, it _used_ to be a camp. Now most of it was packed up.

Well, if the handsome-yet-annoying-guy is not going to leave me alone, I should at least make a conversation out of it.

"So," I started, "how come your English… I mean, _Common Tongue_ is so well spoken?" He only had a faint accent, not like the other common-tongue-speaking Dothraki, who had a very thick accent at best. Some of them managed to communicate using only a few words and hand gestures.

Johqu smirked again. "My mother was sold to marry a Khal, and she was a strong-willed woman. She wasn't a Dothraki. She was a daughter of a Westerosi drunk ex-slaver, and he was the one to sell her. She taught me her mother's tongue and gave me to the Khal later than it is usual to give the kids away." He looked proud of her.

No wonder he looked a bit different than the others. I wonder if they gave him a hard time for being different in coloring, size and origin. I remembered I was told they cut their hair in defeat-and it didn't seem like his hair was cut in a long time. I believe he proved himself worthy to others, a bloodrider for the Khal of Khals-or in that case, _Khaleesi_ of Khals.

"Why did you follow Daenerys so far?" I asked in wonder.

"The Khaleesi is the mother of dragons, the stallions who will mount the world. She had defeated all the Khals and walked alive out of the burning _Dosh Khaleen._ She is blood of my blood, and I will go wherever she commands me to go, and die for her in battle."

So that's the kind of layolty Daenerys is looking for, I guess. "But she's a woman." I said, testing him.

"And she was worthy of leading all of the Dothraki-all of the Khalasars together, more than any Khal from the beginning of time." He insisted. "The Khaleesi showed us different ways to live by. We used to take the women we pleased without a question, or kill without a first thought. Daenerys Stormborn showed us a different way."

I took a step back. "You used to _rape_ women?" I felt repelled and reached for my gun. I hate rapists, more then any other type of criminals. Rapists, child molesters, abusive parents-all of that bunch.

Johqu didn't startle, but I saw a glimpse of doubt in his eyes. "No," he said and looked beyond my shoulder, then a smirk appeared on his face. "I never had to."

I looked behind me and saw a serving girl, maybe eighteen, staring at him. When she saw us look back, she blushed hotly and went back to load things to a wagon. I looked back at him. Well, the fact that the Dothraki preferred wearing clothing that showed their muscles even in the snow, didn't help either me or the serving girl.

I gave Johqu a sharp look. He only seemed smugger. Now I saw we were standing quite close to each other. I pressed my lip and shoved a finger at his lean, well-designed chest. Damn it. "Don't. You. Dare. Trying. Me." I warned him and walked away.

"Always love to have a challenge, Bean."

* * *

After one more week of riding, we exited the Riverlands, and entered the Kingsland. Most villages on the way were friendly, but as we went south the looks began to be puzzled. Some even hostile.

"We shall reach King's landing in a two-days ride." Tyrion said from next to me as we were riding. "It is a big city," he added. "Holds a million heads in it, at least. Not all of them are sober. Or functioning."

I chuckled in amusement. "I guess that's lots of people here." I commented and bit into an apple. There were some apples in a farm we passed. We arrived just in time to help the poor farmer. Whose heavy wagon fell on him while trying to pull his ox out of the mud. His children were too young and his wife not strong enough, and the family couldn't help. But the strong Dothraki did. Three Dothraki men, who gained scared looks from the wife and the children, and three Westerosi soldiers came in help. I knew I wouldn't be much of a change, but I joined in anyways, the Hound at my side ad we all pushed the wagon off the farmer. It was harder than we thought, because the mud was thick and sticky and the wagon was heavier than it seemed, even when empty.

One of the healers tended him and for his gratitude he gave us a wagon of apples.

Tyrion smiled and shook his hands, "It will help us even more if you will spread the story," He said, "So people will know that you are in the good and kind hand of Daenerys Targaryen. Just as we speak, she is fighting a great war in the north to protect us. The Walkers are back, but we are hoping they will not reach the Twins." The farmer nodded, still grateful.

"I hope they won't think we did it just to make Daenerys look good." I said while we rode together. Tyrion smiled.

"No worries. The smallfolk want rain and security. Well, rain they get from the skies and now security is back for the lands since the war is almost over. The _small_ war, I mean. They support whoever may keep it that way. Soon they will be praying for sun, but for now, they're happy more than they have been for a long time. The wounded lands, torn by the wars of kings, have time to heal."

"What about the villages to the south? The ones Cersei's men are assaulting?"

Tyrion smiled, "We are working on that too, aren't we?"

I nodded. It reminded me that our long, long journey is not going to end in King's Landing.

I wondered what Jon is doing, and hoped he's alive. I knew he's probably fighting. Testing the power of the flamethrowers. Daenerys, I guess, is burning the wights by the dozens or even hundreds.

It was a bit warmer down here. I didn't need the heavy cloak at all, and I wore comfy breaches and a long jacket. I only had a lighter brownish cape with a hood.

I was glad for the sun, and the few clouds in the sky. I felt the freezing winds from up north ones in a while, but I didn't want to think about the weather right now.

"My brother is upset we didn't tell him about any of it." Tyrion said, "He wanted to join down south, to at least escort me… and then find Cersei by himself. Queen Daenerys will not allow that. He is needed in the north."

"Many people are needed there." I said, "Jaime can relax. And so can you. Even if Cersei will give birth only after arriving to Winterfell, Daenerys is not going to harm the baby."

"How do you know that?" Tyrion asked.

"I just asked her." I shrugged. Tyrion was a bit surprised. "What?" I asked.

Tyrion looked worried. "What did you exactly ask her? What words did you use to form you question?"

I looked at him, confused. "I asked her what will she do with an enemy's child."

"And 'enemy's' child?"

"Yes."

Tyrion sighed and rode closer to me. "Andie, your heart is good. But Cersei is not just any enemy. Daenerys was sure to spare her child before she turned on her and Jon and broke their pact to draw from fighting each other and fight together the Walkers. She had betrayed her badly, not just her-the people of this land, from the highest lord to the lowest smallfolk." He looked forward with some kind of sadness. "My sweet sister is a queen in some people's eyes. And her child will be heir in the same people's eyes if Cersei dies. It's not just any enemy, it's a threat to Daenerys own unborn babe."

My eyes widen in shock and the breath stopped in my lungs. I can't believe it. Daenerys maybe liked the words 'Fire and Blood' too much, but I can't believe she can… "So you're saying…" I said in a very low voice.

"Yes, Andie. That is why I came to you and asked that if the child will be born, you will find it a home. And better tell Cersei and everyone it died. Maybe that is how you will avoid burning alive."

My heart raced as I looked forward. Oh, shit. Oh, SHIT. Did Daenerys understand I was referring to Cersei? Probably. Did she show me her kinder side to avoid answering the actual question? I guess so. I started to get annoyed, then mad, then my blood became hotter as I though about it. Cersei is going to die. Daenerys can choose who will raise the kid. He or she will not know who their parents were. The _world_ doesn't have to know that. Find trustworthy enough people, and everything should be fine.

I pressed my lips and decided I am going to talk with Daeneys about it the moment we arrive back to Winterfell. And I don't care for any dragon or whatever. I don't like being manipulated like that.

"Andie, you have to understand," Tyrion said, probably sensing my mood. "Daenerys is with child, she's not even thinking as a queen on that matter. She thinks as a mother."

I looked at Tyrion, and my blood cooled down. It made sense. A mother's protective instinct is stronger than a leader's calm strategy. At least I hoped so, when it came to Daenerys-Jon's queen, lover and the mother of his child.

I looked behind my shoulder, north. It's been more than a month since I got here. I'm losing hope of finding a way back home.

Zee didn't call again. I turned off my phone when it reached twenty present, in case I will need it for whatever reason, and I though she might contact Bran again. But not a word from him either. I also got used to living here-the baths, that powder they use to clean their teeth with. I was lucky to be a part of the elite, have food and protection. I just missed my friends, and I missed my cat.

I did my best to not think of home, and not think of Jon, that still annoyed me a bit, even though we parted on half-hearted good terms.

What is going on up there? Please, _please_ don't be dead when I come back.

* * *

/Jon/

His frosty breath looked almost like smoke as they passed the bridge over the half-frozen lake. Jon heard a cry of a dragon and looked up. Both Rhaegal and Drogon were flying the sick, the elderly and the babes of the town to the camp they sat away from there, a place to gather everyone before heading to Winterfell, that was a long ride away. It took them three trips already, and that was the forth. Daenerys was riding Drogon and Rhaegal followed. Jon wondered why the green wouldn't come to him again. He was shier than Drogon, and Daenerys told him how close he was to Viserion. Rhaegal and Drogon were mourning just like her when their brother was shot dead by the Night King.

The though of him made Jon's stomach fill with hate, and it also made him sick, and cold to the bone. How is he going to kill him? He was the key, of course. Kill the Night King-kill everything he had created. Can it be a Valyrian steel? Will his sword be enough as it is? And if it is, how will he even get close enough to strike him? And if not, whet else can they try to kill him?

They were evacuating the villages, one by one. It wasn't enough. The north was large and vast, and the villages and towns leagues apart from each other. Word came that the Walkers took villages, heading in both directions-south at east, and south to the west. It worried Jon. They had to do something about them soon.

Behind him nine-hundred civilians walked or rode. They were the ones capable to walk-but not all of them were capable to fight. Youth, untrained farmers and housewives, and proud old man who will not ride a dragon, or will not coward from the cold or Walkers. They weren't fast enough, and they weren't safe.

Ghost padded beside him, silent as always. It _was_ silent. The wind had stopped, and the only sounds Jon heard was of the people walking behind him. His men were surrounding the people-soldiers from different armies. Glovers at the back, Unsullied at the front, and Dothraki strolling along the group, back and forth, making sure nobody goes astray.

The dragons were back and flew to the village again, but Jon wasn't expecting them to return so quickly. He saw Drogon batting his wings and landing before him. Daenerys slid down his wing fast, as he gave a cry.

"They're there." She said, panting. "They got the town. Everyone that was there… dead. Turned."

Jon's eyes widen as he processed the information. "The bridge. We have to destroy it." He said and turned his horse. It was a stone bridge! How will they burn it? They will have to use both the dragons' fires, but he still wasn't sure it will fall. Maybe they can strike it with their tails?

"Grey Worm!" Daenerys called. "Lead these people to safety."

"Queen Daenerys," He said in his stiff accent. "I cannot let you go to battle on your own. Let us come with you."

Then Daenerys spoke softly to him in Valyrian, and he nodded. She turned to the people. "Listen to me!" She called. "You shall follow my general to safety. Do as he say. Sadly, I need you to walk faster! Tell so to the people behind you. You are going to be safe!"

She gained puzzled looks from the crowd. The leaders of the village turned to Jon.

"You heard your queen!" He called. "Hurry up and follow the Unsullied!"

And then he bolted with his horse back to the bridge. How long a ride was that? Ten minutes, walking. Jon heard the wings of a dragon above him as Daenerys and her dragons flew low above him. She yelled n Dothraki and some of the man joined him. They gained looks from the smallfolk who got out of the way while the word from their peers came and they walked faster, some of them even started to run.

The sound of still and scream came into his ears. The hated music of war.

 _They passed the bridge_ , he thought grimly. There were two people with blow torches at the back, and they did their best, Jon saw their flames float in the air. "The bridge!" He shouted as he spotted the bridge, full of wights who spilled out of it like rushing waters. "We must destroy it!" But he barely heard himself. He could see the bodies, mostly of civilians, splayed on the ground. Jon drew Longclaw and jumped off his horse. Ghost was also fighting. He big the wights and killed them. Jon guessed magic kills magic, and Ghost was quite different than a regular wolf.

A soldier fell next to him. Jon ran and slashed at each wight he could on his way to the bridge. Then a strong light and heat hit his face as Drogon breathed a column of fire at the bridge. Then another, as Rhaegal did the same from the other side. The wights turned into ashes, but there were more that kept coming. The fire made the stones of the bridge low red with heat. The dragons breathed fire again.

Jon looked at the bridge and saw it was mainly held by the stone in its middle. There was already a crack there, and the flames helped it open, but it wasn't enough.

He took a big breath, and then he ran.

Jon wasn't sure what was going through his mind as the battle kept happening behind him, and was coming in front of him. Another group of wights burnet in a wave of flames. The bridge radiated heat, and it made him sweat, and it felt like the soles of his boots were melting.

He got to the middle stone, the one that held the bridge and knelt near the crack, his knees burning, but he did not pay attention to it. He could feel Daenerys stare from above him as another wave of fire burned the wights. The river was now completely molten with the heat, he saw. It will take at least a fortnight for it to freeze again, and Winterfell was far.

Jon drew out a dagger-a black steel, flat, wide and a bit thick dagger. He shoved it into the crack and found a stone to hammer it in. _Bang, bang, bang, crack. Bang, bang, bang, crack._ It started to work. Now, with a strong enough blast of fire, or a strike of Drogon's tail-or _both_ -Jon hoped the bridge will fall. "Burn the bridge!" He yelled to Daenerys and he rose to his feet, two steaming holes in his breaches above his knees. "Burn the bridge!" He hoped she heard him, because he started to run back to the fighting army to help. He slashed his sword at a wight, and held another in his hand for a Dothraki to shove a dragonglass dagger into him. Then his killed another wight and tried to save a soldier from the claws of three others. He felt the heat of fire at his back as the dragons burned the bridge. It was barely standing now. Another stroke of fire, another hot breath, and then finally Drogon flew lower and hit the damn bridge with his tale.

Stones were flying all around them, and Jon jumped to the floor and covered his head as the rain of dust, rocks, ice and snow stopped. There were only a few more wights around. Jon fought and killed, and then felt to freezing, bony hand behind him, chocking him. He kicked and shook but the wight won't go. It didn't let go until a vicious sound of ripping as heard and Jon was pushed to the ground, only to see Ghost lingering above a maniac wight, ripping at its throat until it stopped moving.

There was silence again and Jon looked at the bodies around him. He stood back up and breathed heavily. They lost two hundred smallfolk. Almost the same amount in fighting men.

He heard two dragons land behind him and sighed. Daenerys little gloved hand laid on his shoulder gently. "We should burn them." He said with a heavy heart. Only now he noticed the blisters on his knees and felt then burns on his feet. His throat was aching, and there was a nasty cut at his left arm. Ghost came over and licked the blood away.

"Yes." Daenerys agreed and he heard the pain in her voice. "We must."

The remaining soldiers and Jon gathered the bodies together. They didn't have the time to make a pyre or dig a grave. They rode away, but Jon stayed to look from afar as Drogon and Rhaegal burnt the dead bodies on the ground, as the cold, blue eyes of the Night King appeared in his mind, waiting, testing.

/

After he washed himself and was taken care by a maester, Jon stood at the walls of Winterfell-then spot where he said his goodbyes to Andie. How he missed her. She would cheer him up, or find _something_ amusing to comment about. She will talk about the dragons, or the weather, or the _icy zombies_ , and she will fight with him again for not letting her join the fight.

But he can't. He can't let her go out there, and risk herself for people and land that are not even there. If anything will happen to her kitten-like smile…

Jon was sick of losing good people. It happened too much. He gritted his teeth and griped the railing, brooding as always. It was enough that Daenerys was out there. At least she sent Andie south… Jon believed it safer than the north, at least. And for half the journey she will have Tyrion as company, and that's never a bad thing.

"It's getting late," He heard his sister behind him. He turned to meet Sansa's blue-grey gaze. "You should come for supper."

She herself was busy these days more than he thought she should be, but who's better at this job than Sansa? She was wonderful in managing the castle, the supplies, the commoners. Jon was grateful for her, and for Arya that was her protection and her right-hand woman.

"I'm not hungry." He said. They didn't rest at the camp as they planned. They kept walking and riding, and stopped only past midnight. At dawn they moved again, until they arrived Winterfell fur days after the fight. Everyone was exhausted, and they lost old people and children to the cold.

Yet Jon didn't miss his bed, nor the good food from the kitchens, nor the warm hearth. He couldn't think of anything but the war and the safety of those he loved.

Sansa leaned on the wall on her side and gave a glance to the horizon. "You have to eat." She stated. "We can't risk you being sick or weak. You are the King in the North. You are… you are the one the north looks up to."

Jon remembered the looks he got from the town's people when Daenerys ordered them to follow Grey Worm. Even with her helping them and being their queen, their turned to him for confirmation. Northerners are a hard, stubborn breed. Their a _stark_ breed.

Still, Jon didn't have any appetite. "I'll be fine one night without eating. I've been starving for longer than that."

His sister crossed her arms across her chest. "What is it?" She asked.

"What is it not, will be a better question." Jon smiled bitterly. "The war, for instance."

Sansa sighed. "Yes, the war." She looked him up and down. "We've been warring for a long time. It didn't prevent you from having supper."

Jon looked away from his sister. Should he ask her for advice? It doesn't look like she's about to leave him anytime soon.

"Do you think Ii should marry Daenerys?" He asked.

His question made Sansa almost jump in her place in surprise. Then, so recollected herself. "Of all of the people you could ask that, you chose _me_? Me, who use to dream of marrying _Joffrey_? Me, who was forced to marry _twice_ , one to a man hideous in the outside but kind and gentle, and the second to… well, you've met him." Her voice turned into ice at the end of her sentence. Joffrey was a far memory, but that… _bastard_ … that monster… that repelling man, Ramsay, was still haunting her in her sleep. Jon hated that man in every bit of his body, and he would punch him again and again, and more, but it was Sansa's right for revenge, not his.

"I'm asking you because you are my sister," Jon said, "And you're not as impulsive as Arya and I are." And Bran was not much of an option. Maybe he should ask Sam about that… even though, since learning of his father and brother's execution, Sam was avoiding him and especially Daenerys. He was hurt and angry, but since he was a gentle man and Jon's best friend-he did not want to cause much problem, and stayed mostly in the library, searching for more information about the White Walkers.

Sansa looked around the walls and towers of Winterfell. "And do you ask me as your sister, or as the Lady of Winterfell?"

"You are both."

Sansa rolled her eyes at him, "You know what I mean by that."

"I asked both of 'them'." He insisted. Sansa sighed.

"As the Lady of Winterfell, I will tell you that the only way the northerners will trust a southern ruler again is if she'll marry one of ours, and who's better than the King in the North?" She had a little smirk when she said the title-a title used only y the northerners. The rest called him Lord Snow, which used to be a mock in the Night's Watch and became his nickname there. Now people actually meant it as 'lord'. "Also, I know Daenerys is pregnant. Soon everyone will know. How long will it take until it will show? A month? Two? How many layers of clothing will hide it?" Sansa looked at her gloves, "The child should be a true-born, a valid heir for both of you. So the Lady of Winterfell says you should." She smiled almost playfully, but then turned serious again. "And as your sister, I will say… You love her, don't you. You know her for six months, maybe? But you love her. It's hard to find someone in a position so similar to yours. And she loves _you_. I can see it, she does." She laid her hand on his, "You're going to have a child together, and I know you, Jon-even if you didn't love the mother you will love that child more than anything in the world." She caught his glance. "So as your sister, I say… if you love her and she loves you, and if you find it right, then you should marry her. Maybe you will need to think over it."

Jon sighed and nodded. "Thank you, Sansa." He breathed out, still not hungry. Well, maybe just for dessert. He does deserve dessert.

* * *

/Andie/

After a long ride between villages, holdfasts and the occasional castle, King's Landing looked humongous even to _me_.

We stood on a hill above a valley, full of fields and groves and roads. There where farms scattered around, and the lightest snow-the kind that melts when it touches anything-was falling. Everything was muddy and the sky was grey, but on the other side of the valley there was a city. A damn _city_. It was so quiet here, but I already started to imagine loud people talking in different languages, smells of food and smoke and the noise of cars… wait, wrong place, wrong time.

This city looked like it was climbing up a hill, until it reached its end at a very spiky, red, giant castle. It looked like a Disney palace, if Disney went dark.

"The Red Keep," Tyrion said from his horse. "Your home for the next week, at least. You have to rest before the travel that awaits you."

I bit my lip and sighed. "A week, maybe." I said. "We have to find her; any day is another disadvantage." And also, I wanted to be done with it. The weather was nicer, yes. But I wanted to be back at Winterfell, with Arya, Ghost and… Well, I still missed Jon. Damn that bastard.

Also, I felt like I need to be there, Like there's something there for me.

Probably more snow. Urgh.

"Are you going to give me a tour 'round the city?" I asked."

Tyrion smirked, "Ooh, but the gossip people might have. 'The foreigner and the Imp, came to undress Westeros from its traditions."

I snorted in amusement. That would be funny.

"That shit of a city." I heard the Hound grunt behind us. "What are you waiting for? It's not going to get prettier at dark."

I snorted again. "Lots of cunts?"

"Many of 'em." Sandor answered grumpily and gave his horse a little kick to ride pass us.

"Let's go," Tyrion said, "A million people await us."

"Hm, million. That's a lot." It's an eighth of my home town, but million is a million no matter where you live.

I took in the view. It was a pretty city from far away. I didn't know if I want to see it from up-close.


	9. Chapter 9: All You Need is Good Music

The sound that woke me up came from my window. It was barely open, just to let some air in, but I heard the faint noises of a living city. A medieval living city.

I opened my eyes to look at the ceiling-it was red, kind of. The whole palace was made of that reddish stone. My room- _chambers_ , I need to say-was big and open. It was slightly bigger than my apartment in New York, with a marble bath and a dining table. I even ad a desk! A _desk!_ Not that I really knew what to do with it, it just made me feel important.

It felt like autumn here in the city. People walked outside in warm clothes and sold their baked-goods or fish or fruits. It was alive, not like those small villages in the north, that some of them were abandoned because the people went to a safer place-some south, some to help in Winterfell.

King's Landing was crowded as fuck. We rode passed the poorer neighborhoods-the area they call Flea Bottom-and even though we didn't enter, I could smell the stench coming from the sewage and disease. There were ruins on one hill in the city-it was built of three hills, apparently, even though they looked like one from afar. The ruins were a part of the Great Sept-it's like a temple, Tyrion said. The Hound added it wall full of cunts. Tyrion said that Cersei blew those cunts up with their nice giant sept, their seven gods, and their followers.

Now it was just a huge pile of stone. On one end of the street, I saw a giant iron bell. It wasn't moved yet from its landing place. There were red priestesses telling the crowds about the Lord of Light. They wanted to build a temple for him in the place the sept once stood, but these people's faith in the Seven was loyal.

Tyrion made sure I will have the chambers with the best view-on one side, the ocean. On the other-the city. The breeze from the sea smelled significantly better than the smell that came from the other side. A proper overpopulated city. If you ask me. You know, I'm an expert being a New Yorker and shit.

I heard a knock on the door. "Come in," I said. One of my maids came inside with a roll parchment in her right hand and a water pitcher.

"President Andie," She said and I tried not to chuckle. I can't believe Tyrion took it seriously and that's how he introduced me to the staff. "The Lord Hand says that short letter was waiting here from you. It's from Winterfell." She placed the letter at my desk and the pitcher on a small table that had some glasses on it. _Did something happen to Jon?_ I thought immediately, worried. _Or Arya? Sansa? Daenerys?_ I started to think about all the people I met and liked in Winterfell and hoped all of them are well. "M'lord also asks of you to come break the fast at his chambers when you are dressed and ready."

I poured myself some water and looked at myself. Well, I was technically dressed. I was wearing a sleeping gown, but here everything has to be so formal. "Alright, I'll be ready in a few minutes." I said and drank.

"Will m'lady need help fastening her dresses?" She asked kindly.

"No, thanks." I shrugged. She bowed and got out of the room. At the same moment I picked the tiny scroll with the broken sill and read the neat handwriting.

 _"Andie, your friend Zee had communicated with Bran. She said she cannot find a way for you to come back yet, but she added she believes you will be able to find it. She and your other friends are wishing you well. Also, Arya, Sansa and many more are hoping your travels to King's Landing went as plan. Our Queen and King are on a mission to rescue another village, but I believe they wish you well too. Samwell Tarly."_

I blinked at it and gulped. Zee talked to Bran? Probably not too long after we left, because that letter was waiting for me long enough. And Daenerys and Jon went on a dangerous mission? I have to know if they're fine. Maybe Tyrion will have the answers.

"Ah, good morning Andie! Did you sleep well? I hope the noisy city didn't wake you." Tyrion greeted me. He had a whole tower for himself. _The Tower of the Hand_. We sat at a nice dining room with a table full of food.

"Good morning," I said with a smile. "I'm quite used to these kind of noises, so that's ok." I said and sat on the chair one of the serving girls took out for me, right next to Tyrion wo sat at the head.

"I'm glad for it. Would you like some food?" He asked. I shrugged and took a peach out of a big bowl of fruits. I saw he already ate and he had many rolled and unrolled scrolls and letter on the table before him.

"What's all that?"

"Letters from around the realm." Tyrion said. "Some southern lords that want to claim warden on the south after House Tyrel and House Tarly fell. Some lordlings who claim a piece of the Riverlands each to his own. Some who send men to help fight in the north, some who refuse."

"Anything from Winterfell?" I asked anxiously. "In my letter-"

"I've read your letter." Tyrion said with a light smile. "No worried, our Queen and King are safe. Sadly, there were losses of civilians and soldiers."

I sighed and nodded. "That's some good peaches." I declared.

"Yes, they are. From the south, of course. Like many other produce that comes to the city, or even as far as Winterfell." He poured himself some juice. "The city is finally not starving, after year of scrabbling among lords and kings and queens. But some people are bothering the farmers more than I can ignore… They are burning fields as well."

"You sister's followers are starting to go too far, are they?"

Tyrion sighed. "Yes, sadly." He looked down at his big pile of letters. "I have to send you south earlier, Andie. You and the rest of the fore Queen Daenerys appointed for this mission."

"When?" I asked, not sure how to feel about it. I didn't like it, of course. I thought we will have some time to relax and gain some strength.

"On the morrow, first light."

I finished my peach. "Ok. Why did you call me here without the rest of the guys?"

Tyrion chuckled. "I wanted good company, of course! The Hound hates Lannisters, Brienne mostly sulks, Podrik is probably out there, amusing some lucky women and the Dothraki like wrecking castles more than staying in them."

"Where are the Dothraki now, then?"

"Camping in the godswood." Tyrion said. "Sleeping under the stars and the Mother of Mountines."

I stayed there for a while. Talking with Tyrion until he was called to start his office work. I looked out the window at the city. "I guess I'll stroll around before I leave." I said.

"I'll send two guards with you, then. Are you sure you don't want to ride?"

I blinked. "What? No. I'm just going to look around town. I'll be fine. I'll take my guns with me."

Tyrion thought for a moment. "I guess the people are not as upset as they were when my nephew or sister were in charge. It is still unsafe to walk alone in such a crowded place."

"I had my practice." I smiled at him, "You go do your thing. I'll be fine."

* * *

I was _mostly_ fine. I changed to simpler clothes and a brown cloak with the hood on so the people won't see my hair. It was way longer now, reaching beyond my shoulders. My real hair color, chestnut, was showing three inches above the blue.

I walked around the city and saw the people they called the smallfolk-poor people, simple people. They said flee bottom was the worst, but I didn't get there yet. Here, after I passed the villas of the lords and rich merchants, there were different three stories or four stories buildings with shops at the bottom. Tyrion gave me a small sack with some money if I want to buy something for myself, and I got a nice necklace with some tiny gemstones. I hid it under my shirt before Ii got to the poorer neighborhoods.

I was close to the ruins of the Great Sept and watched one of the red priestesses' speeches. Poor people stood and watched as she talked about this guy, Lord of Light or whatever.

I stood with my hood up, listening.

"In the flames I have seen the King in the North fight for Winterfell, as he did. R'hllot showed me the death of King Joffrey, and he sowed e a great victory up north. You shall prey to the Lord of Light, for he is the only true god. Queen Daenerys the Kind, the Mother of Dragons, the Unburnt, gave her trust into us, and so shall you! Have faith in your queen! Have fairth in the flames!"

Some guy dressed in something that looked more like a bunch of sacks rather than clothed spat on the ground. "Ya want us all to give up our Seven for yarr burning god? I heard what ya'll are doing in Essos, or with Stannis. Ya burn people alive!"

I heard more shouts from the crowd. "Queen Daenerys burns her enemies as well!" Someone else shouted.

"Aye, but it is not the same!"

"Not the same? Not the same, you ask me? She is going to be mad, mad like her mad father before her."

I clenched my jaws. I was still upset with Daenerys for avoiding giving me a straight answer when I comes to Cersei's baby, and now they say she burns people. Well, of course she is! Jon kills his enemies with a sword, I do it with a gun. Daenerys have dragons.

She didn't make the impression of a crazy person to me. I listen to the shouting again.

"The queen had brought us peace and food. The city is not starving."

"But why did she bring _them_ with her?" someone else yelled and pointed at the priestess that tried to yell above the crowd.

I didn't really care about the whole religion thing in Westeros, but I did care about what they think of Daenerys. Even if I was upset with her, it doesn't mean I don't think she can be a good queen. I think she deserves being a queen, but she can't prove herself in person while fighting in the north. I have a stupid idea.

I climbed on the rubble, higher than the priestess and took my phone out. I'll have to make the sacrifice of my last twenty percent, probably, but I hope that 'miracle' will convince those people to shut up and think good of Daenerys. People started to get quiet. I felt the looks on me. "This is a word from the Gods of Rock!" I yelled. "They shall not haveth yar squabbling at times of war! Thou shall be united and strong, for our Queen Daenerys, the Unburnt, the Mother of Dragons, the Breaker of Chains," _I'm sure there are more titles but ain't nobody got time for that,_ "fights the great Winter in the north, for the safety of thou and thay children!" Nnow everybody started to be quite. I hope it's going to work.

I set up my phone on the loudest volume possible and on the song I wanted them to hear. It's cheesy, but I like the message either way. "Those are the words of the Gods of Rock, the great and mighty Beatles!"

Then I hit play and the beginning of the French national anthem started, followed by the Beatles' singing.

 _"There's nothing you can't do that can't be done,_

 _Nothing you can sing that can't be sung,_

 _Nothing you can say, but you can learn how to play the game, it's easy."_

The words were vague enough, but the bottom line clear. People were staring at me and my phone with their mouths wide open, including the priestess that was shocked herself. With my hood still on, many people will not know who I am.

" _All you need is love, love. Love is all you need."_

The song ended and people looked at me, waiting probably for explanation.

I looked down to them and turned off my phone. I had ten percent left. "The Gods of Rock said their word! Thou shall stop the hate, stop the envy. Thou shall not hurt or lie or steal, for there is a war-the War of Wars in the north, and we cannot war among ourselves. Love, my friends. Help and build a temple for love." There were whispers. I jumped of the pile of rubble.

"Sorcery!"

"Magic!"

"Unnatural!"

And then, there were more of the nice ones-

"These are the true gods!"

"The gods have spoken to us!"

"Who is that great prophet of the Gods of Rock!"

"What did they mean by 'nothing you can sing that can't be sung'? Oh, what a mystery!"

"Who are you?" I heard the priestess yell behind me. "How have you-"

"With the power of technology." I yelled back. "And John Lennon."

I ran back until no one saw me, to the Red Keep. It was getting dark, and I think I saw enough and caused enough damage. Or did I help?

I got to the castle. Tyrion asked me if I saw anything interesting today. I shrugged the question off. "It's a nice city." I said. "I got a necklace."

* * *

/Jon/

"Any word from the south?" Jon asked Sam at his study. Sam fumbled with his fingers with some scrolls. "I was about to give those to the queen's servants." He never looked up from his desk.

Jon sighed and leaned his sword against the door frame. He sat before his best friend. "Talk to me, Sam."

"I am talking to you. Theirs is so much work to be done, all of the letters that were sent here while Tyrion was on the road…"

"No," Jon insisted. "Talk to me like the friends we are."

Sam lifted his eyes from the parchment. "I am sorry, Jon. I can't blame you, but you _did_ swear fealty to Daenerys."

"I am sorry," Jon said. "I did not know before then." He knew Sam never had a good relationship with his father, who forced him to join the watch and give up his claim for Horn Hill. But his brother, he was a good lad, Jon believed. Sam was mourning both of them and sent letters to his mother and sisters, that were well.

Sam nodded his head. "I'm over sensitive, I guess. You had to, didn't you? She's our only chance in defeating the army of the dead, and she's beautiful."

Jon sighed again, "It's not just that, but yes. She is both our only hope and a very beautiful woman." He found himself smiling almost. "I want you to be strong, Sam. For Gilly, for Little Sam, for me and for yourself. I know you can do it." He stood up and took the scrolls. "I'll deliver these to the queen." He said and took his sword on his way out.

There were scrolls for him too that came from the south. A seal with the Hand's symbol on it, and another with a seal of blue wax and no sigil. Jon smiled and broke the seal as he looked at the messy hand writing.

 _"I'm out of King's Landing. Maybe caused some stirring among the smallfolk and the Red Priestesses. Don't tell Dany. I think they'll figure it out in the end. Don't get yourself killed."_

She didn't signed her name, but it was easy to guess who the writer was. Jon shoved the little piece of parchment into his pocket and entered Daenerys' chambers.

She opened the newest letter from Tyrion and blinked three times.

"What is wrong?" Jon asked.

"The red priestesses are in a conflict among themselves and the smallfolk. They found new gods to worship. Some say it's the God of Light in a costume, but some say these are different gods. The true gods."

Jon was curious and remembered Andie's message. "What gods?"

"The Gods of Rock."

This time he couldn't stop his laugh.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Hi guys!**

 **Just letting you know, the updates are going to come slower now. I feel a bit stuck with the story (even though I already have most of the plot planned out). Also, I'm really busy.**

 **I will finish it n the end, of course, because I want to and because of you, me readers, who are devoted to read and review since Snow in NY.**

 **Thanks a lot for your support, guys!**

 **~A Girl Has Many Names~**


	10. Chapter 10: Blood, Sweat and Death

It was hot and crowded in the small house. You can't even call it a house, it was more of a one room hut. The small village was made mainly out of those small huts, and fields, and shacks.

It took us more than two weeks to cross the Reach and get there from King's Landing. Half of the village was burnt, and the people were scared to their bones. That little village was just on the border with Dorne, and it was at the end of a trail of completely burnt villages, abandoned or destroyed. The people here survived one assault, and they were very suspicious when we arrived. They thought we're raiders, just like the last group that murdered and raped their girls a week ago. They thought they were Dothraki, and it was hard to convince them otherwise when the actual Dothraki we had with us were pretty scary looking. Joqhu didn't help by rolling his eyes at them, either.

The Hound was grumpy and scared the little kids, and Brienne was a tall woman in armor who was nervous and unsure. She was good at representing her lady, but when it came to speech and talking for herself she was completely awkward. And then there was me, a young woman with a weird hair color and a strange accent. I decided to take control anyways, because no one else will. I had to convince the people there that we're on their side, and it took me a while. Then, we heard the gallops of two dozen horses from south, and I urged the people to get into the huts and shacks. The streets were almost empty when those ugly looking armored people arrived the village, and then the fighting started. I jumped out of the crowded hut and took my guns out. Some bad guy on a horse ran in my direction with his sword up, and got a bullet in his brain that made him fall of his horse.

There was a moment of silence when everyone gaped at my gun because of the loud noise it made. I was breathing heavily-it was a pretty long time since I actually killed someone.

An arrow flew near my head and I rolled to take cover under a wagon.

The village was in chaos. Dothraki slashed at soldiers, the Hound fought three of Cersei's people at ones. More of them came swarming into the village, and I think that now there were almost fifty. I saw one of our Dothraki warriors fall off his horse with an arrow in his throat. His blood came out like puke from his mouth. That was gruesome.

I swallowed and tried not to think about all of the blood and screams and weirdly bent bodies, and tried to spot the archer. I peaked beyond the wagon and looked up to find him shooting at our people from the tallest building in the village-that wasn't so tall at all. I didn't get a good shot at him from where I was, but I saw there was a ladder two huts away. I crawled out of my wagon and ran as fast as I could to the ladder. Another arrow whistled near my ear. I entered a different hut than I planned because I didn't have another place to take cover in. The family inside looked scared, but I didn't have time to acknowledge them. The fight outside kept happening, and I had to help me friends.

I climbed out of their window and ran to the hut with the ladder. The moment I started to climb, a sharp pain cut my shoulder. It was worse than I imagined getting scratched by an arrow could be. "Motherfucker!" I yelled and held my bleeding shoulder, gritting my teeth. But I knew it's not time to dwell in pain. I spotted then damn archer and now I had a good enough angle. He knocked an arrow. I hit the trigger, and the bullet pierce his arm, forcing him to drop his weapon. Then I shot his head and climbed to the roof of the hut.

The Dothraki screamers were as good as they get. Brienne was kicking ass, and the Hound was a fucking monster. Even Pod successfully fought the bad guys. We had two injured and one dead so far. I started shooting.

I took a big breath to deal with my pain, and took down five guys. It looked like we're going to win this fight, but then I saw one of our enemies sneaking into a hut with a family in it. I drew in a sharp gasp and ran to the ladder, then cursed in pan again as the pain in my arm started to get stronger. It's just a scratch, Andie. You've had worse. Come on, go, go, go!

I started to climb down, but the pain in my arm was too much. My hand just didn't have a good grip and I fell into a puddle of mud with a loud 'oof'. "Thank Hendrix for that soft landing." I grumbled and saw a man run to me with a spear. "Oh, give me a break!" I yelled, have in pain, half annoyed and raised quickly to my feet. I shot him in the throat and jumped ot of his way when he hit the floor with his spear. Collapsing to the ground. You can add like, seven, eight guys to you list of how many lives you took. I thought grimly to myself, and then I remembered why I climbed down in the first place.

Holding my bleeding shoulder, I ran to the hut. I saw the bad guy sneak and heard screams, and kick down the door.

Three kids were hiding under a table at the side. A body of a dead villager was splayed in a puddle of blood that poured out of his stomach, and in the other corner of the room and man was ripping the clothed off of a screaming, begging woman.

I saw only red, and sharply said, "Get off her, or your death will be worse than the one you gave her husband." He didn't hear me. "I said," I growled, "get the fuck off her!" That caught his attention. He turned around and looked at me, unimpressed.

"I don't fucking care what you say. Your savage queen's going to kill me anyways, so I better get some cunt before you do that. Maybe yours?" His smile lacked some teeth. Then I saw he had a knife in his hand, and that he stabbed the woman he was assaulting in the heart with so much force that the knife got stuck in the wooden wall behind her. The kids screamed behind me as he tried to draw his knife out of his dying victim, blood dripping out of her mouth. I almost screamed, but couldn't give him the satisfaction. I pressed my lips and drew my gun out in a second, shooting at his hand.

"You fucking bitch!" He screamed in pain. I didn't mind his screams and shot his ankle. He screamed again and fell to the floor as I walked to him. I forgot about the pain in my arm, about the guilt I felt over killing even the bad guys, about me wanting to give people the cleanest, painless death, because I'm not a sadistic monster like I was raised to be. But this man, this scum, doesn't deserve to live. He doesn't deserve a clean death. But then, when I heard the fighting was over out there, I remembered we need someone to lead us to Cersei. I looked down at the scum who was making an effort to spit at my face. It was so bad he only hit my boot. That granted him a kick to the jaw from said boot.

"Andie!" I heard Brienne behind me. "I heard multiple shots, are you-" then her eyes fell on the ugly man I was standing over with his multiple gun shots. He was bleeding, and so was I.

"We should burn the bodies." I said and turned to her. I gulped when I saw the terrified, now orphaned kids shaking under the table. How come I was less than a monster after acting that way? I still saw red, I still wanted to finish he job. "And for him… we need to keep him alive. He will lead us to Cersei." My breath was heavy as I walked passed her and out of the door.

The village looked like it went under some kind of massacre.

In one moment all of the violence, and blood, and death and pain downed on me, and I emptied my stomach on the spot.

The Dothraki had a funny way of treating their hostages. I mean, not really funny. Even though that ugly rapist I shot couldn't really walk, they wouldn't let him sit on a horse. He was dragged behind us with a rope tied to his hands, naked. It was their way of humiliating him.

* * *

Joqhu mended my arm. Damn, how I wish we had antibiotics now. A little bit of sterile thread to saw the cut and some modern medicine would do the trick and my wound will be fine in a few days.

But not here. Here they put some weird stinging oils on it and wrap it with some cloth. It didn't get infected, but it still hurt like a motherfucker. Especially in the dry heat of the desert.

We burnt our two dead men and the murdered villagers in big pyres. For the enemy's troops-well, we had to do something with the bodies, so we burnt them as well in a big pit out of the village. That was nasty, but necessary.

"We're close." The limping idiot said one afternoon. I didn't want to know his name, so I just called him 'the limping idiot.' Sometimes Clegane would call him 'cunt' or a 'cock sucker', either offensive to someone, but the Hound always called people in those names. I looked around at the hills and short cliffs that surrounded us, suspicious.

"Oh, are we now?" Clegane asked and looked back at the idiot, he had a fever, and his wound started to stick really bad. No one would spare healing ointments on him. It was pretty clear that we'll kill him when he's no use to us.

But it wasn't just this. When I told Joqhu about everything this guy did, he decided to do his best to make him suffer. I didn't argue.

"Yes," the limping idiot said and almost collapsed on the ground again, only the force of the horse that dragged him made him move. "Yes, we are." There was a strange smile to his face and my eyes grew wider. I caught Brienne's expression, the same as mine, as we understood what it going to happen just a moment after.

I heard a dozen arrows whistling at once as I jumped off Diana onto the ground with my hands on my head. Some horses got hit and I heard their whines.

"We're being ambushed!" Podric yelled in a half-hysteria.

"No kidding!" I yelled back and took cover behind a huge limestone. Then we heard horses galloping out way. I peeked behind my shelter and saw some of out men got hit, but not critically. Then I remembered how painful it was to get scratched by one of those things and decided to bake a personal cake for each of these brave warriors who kept fighting with arrows sticking out of their backs. Joqhu was a skilled archer himself and jumped to crotch on the back of his moving horse and shot three arrows up. They all hit their targets, and three enemies fell from the cliff. Wow, if we make it out alive I have to make him teach me how to use a bow like that.

Then the cavalry came and there was chaos, just like a week before at the village. I was shooting, Brienne was yelling "Winterfell!" and slashing at man, and Podric was at her tow.

Well, if she had something to shout for, maybe I should find something as well. "New York City!" I screamed as I shot with both of my guns at the same time, hitting two enemy soldiers in the chest. They had armor, but it wasn't bulletproof, and small holes appeared on their chests, drizzling with blood. I swallowed again and ran to the fight. Someone jumped at me with a sword and I ducked quickly, trying to kick at his ankle unsuccessfully. He was quick enough to raise his foot and kick me in the guts. The feeling was awful, but I didn't let myself get lost in the pain. I know I'm out of shape, I didn't fight in a long time-the fight at the village was the first in a few years-but I can't let it get in my way. I have to suck it up and remember what to do in real life action.

I was back on my feet and he slashed at me. I jumped back just to avoid his sword and shot him in the left lung. He stumbled and tried to stab me, eventually falling to his knees, gasping and coughing blood.

I turned to find a soldier slashing at one of out Dothraki, so I shot him in the back. Nasty move, I know, but no less effective. The Dothraki nodded at me and turned to kill another soldier using his arakha. I kept fighting, hand to hand combat as well as shooting and killing and what not. I turned again, only to trip on a dead body of one of our people. I used my fingers to close his eyes before standing back up and shooting another Cersei supporter in the face. Yuck, that's messy, dude.

Brienne was pulling her sword out of somebody's torso when I saw another man coming from behind her. I was about to shoot him, but she drew her sword just in time to turn around and slash at him.

Everywhere around us, was full of dead body. It was quiet again, now. Horses were running about in panic, some were wounded on the floor. It seems like we fought about fifty men, and lost seven. Daenerys was right in assuming we will be good, but I think she was overconfident. I hope there's really only about hundred supporters and not anymore that hide somewhere, because our group is getting smaller. The Hound was panting, his face and armor coated in blood. Actually, all of us had blood stains on our body and clothes. I looked at myself, and my fancy dragon-themed clothes where full of red splashed, even some piece of a brain I blew out of someone's head. That never happened to me before, and I turned away and emptied my stomach on the desert floor again.

Then there was a mad laugh echoing and I turned to see who that was. That limping idiot was still alive. I started to walk to him in some king of a trance, not with that red anger Ii had before, but with something way deeper. One Dothraki was swinging his sword at him in anger but Joqhu lifted his hand to stop his friend, shaking his head and gesturing to me. I stood above the crazy laughing fool and put the end of the barrel of my gun to his forehead. I gritted my teeth, thinking about the awful person I might've become in that short expand of time. I was an assassin, but I never considered myself the cruel kind of killer. No, that's not me. And that idiot was still laughing his brains off. No, I'm not wasting anymore bullet on him. Ii won't let him corrupt me more than he already did.

I took my gun back, and gave him a strong blow to the side of the head with it. The heavy metal did its job, knocking him out, and from now on-I don't care if he's going to starve in the desert or die of his wounds when we'll leave him here.

* * *

We didn't find enough wood the burn all of the bodies, so we only burnt our fighters. Then, we had to keep going. I had no idea what is going to happen to all of these dead people, but I hope there are some carnivorous animals here that wouldn't let them jut rot. Shitty people or no, it's disrespectful, and also very polluting.

"Their trails lead that way," Joqhu said as we kept walking as far from the little warzone as we could. "We should camp for the night soon and get some rest."

The next day we were riding under the burning sun for hours, and running out of water pretty fast. We had to wash the open wounds of some of our warriors, and the blood off out faces. I hoped we're not going to die of dehydration when one of us spotted a small castle in the distance.

When we got closer, we saw two guards at the doors. They were about to yell for reinforcement when we recognized them as Cersei supports with lions decorating their chests, but Joqhu was fast and shot them both in the throat.

We stormed the castle, and it was almost empty. I let the maids and servants go, and so did Brienne. The Dothraki weren't a merciful. They've got an order to kill traitors, and here even the people who were washing Cersei's sheets were traitors.

We kicked down a double door to a big room, and it took me a moment to take it in-there was a man there in black robes, who looked about sixty, and a giant knight in full armor. Two maids were shivering next to a bed, and on that bed, sat a beautiful, tired looking pregnant lady. She had a small green vile in her hand, and se was about to drink it. Poison. No, Cersei, I'm not letting you get away with that.

I drew my gun quicker than I thought I can, and shot in the direction of her hand. It didn't hit her, but the noise was startling enough to make her drop the vile to the floor in shock. Her green eyes grew wide when she looked at the hole in the stone where the bullet hit, and then she collected herself, her face turning into a calm resting bitch face. "A trial by combat…" she said and swallowed. "I demand a trial by combat."

I blinked and looked at Brienne in question. "That's the law of the Seven Kingdoms." She said, clearly unhappy about it. I wanted to say we don't care, most of us are not here and she should answer for her crimes in a court full of people which their lives she had ruined, but Sandor Clegane pushed passed me.

"I'll fight for Queen Daenerys." He said and looked at the giant knight. That's when I took a better look at him-he had a sickly purple color to his skin, and his eyes were bloodshot. Was he…?

"And Ser Gregor will do the fighting in my name, the true queen, Cersei of House Lannister." She said in such confidence, as if she wasn't in disadvantage.

I caught the Hounds hand without thinking, "Are you fucking kidding me? I can take him down with one shot, don't kill yourself for that stupid tradition!" he shrugged his hand away forcefully.

"No, I want to do this. I wanted to kill him since I was a little boy." He growled.

"I won't let him kill you." I decided. "I will shoot him the moment I see you're going to lose."

The Hound gave me a scary glare, "Let him finish me before you finish him, then."

I looked away, angry at him and angry at Cersei and angry at everyone. We don't need anyone of us dying again. We practically won. It's just ego and manipulation, now. Cersei knows Sandor wouldn't give up the chance to kill his brother.

* * *

The fight wasn't held in that tiny room, of course. It was set in the huge empty dining room in that castle. We were the only audience.

I had a silent agreement with the others-whatever the outcome may be, I'm going to gun down the Mountain and we're taking Cersei up to Winterfell. Law or not, she will get justice.

It started well enough with the Hound charging at his brother with a heavy sword in his hands. Gregor tried to block him, but he was hit with such force that he almost stumbled to the ground, giving Sandor enough time to strike his leg with the flat of his sword. The Mountain knelt and the Hound cut was of his armor's strips with his sword. The big metal sleeve started to roll down his arm. Then he sliced the second strap, and the Mountain had to shake his armor sleeves off to grab his sword. Sandor charged, but then wit a swift movement, his brother stood back on his feet, and slammed one of the long metal sleeves in the Hound's face.

I drew in a short breath and reached for my gun. Sandor stumbled, but didn't fell. He spat two teeth out with a lot of blood. The time he took to refocus was enough for Gregor to get rid of his sleeves and they fell on the floor with a loud hollow sound. He swung his sword and hit the Hound's leg. He grunted in pain and gave a strong blow to Gregor's side, and now two of the straps that held his chest plate were undone and left his side exposed. One bullet, I was thinking and gritted my teeth, trying my best to respect the Hound's wishes.

Sandor gave a strong blow to his brother's sword hand, and his giant two-handled sword flew out of his grasp. I started to feel hopeful, sitting on the edge of my seat. I couldn't breath steadily, worried too much for it.

And then, just when I thought my friend's going to finish his opponent with a stroke to the side, the Mountain almost jumped at him and reached for his throat with his bare had. When the Hound fell on his back, he dropped his sword, wiggling under his brother's weight. Looking at them fighting, I almost forgot how big Sandor was. His brother was really a fucking mountain. I glanced to Cersei, who had a smug look on her face, then to the struggling Hound and his monstrous brother. My heart was racing when I saw he won't make it. Fuck your ego, Sandor. Fuck the rules, too. You're my friend.

I drew out my gun and shot without thinking twice. The bullet grazed the back of the Mountain's helmet with a loud thump and sparks flew out of it. It was enough the make him confused and lessen the grip on Sandor's throat. My friend finally managed to bring his hand to his belt and took out a dagger. First, he stabbed his brother's exposed side, his dagger cutting the chainmail easily. Then, he took the dagger out and stabbed him again, and again, until his brother growled in pain and rolled off him. Sandor stood up and kick his brother, who started to bleed and tried to stand back up. The Hound reached to the Mountain's helmet and pulled it off his head. His face was too gruesome to look at, and I looked away when Sandor Clegane shoved his dagger through his brother's skull with a sickening sound.

There was silence, that silence after death I got used to now. Then, Cersei Lannister tried to protest.

"You helped him!" She screamed at me. "You helped him!" She stood up abruptly and her advisor, the old man in black robes I learned his name was Qyburn, stood after her. I let out a breath Ii didn't know I was hold, and pointed both of my guns at them.

"Not another move." I said coldly. Qyburn looked somewhat curios. Cersei was pissed, but tried to collect herself and think of another plan. I didn't care, not moving my eyes off of her until our men came and took her away. Then, I glanced to Brienne that was at my side. She nodded solemnly to me.

I finally had the courage to look at the Hound, who still stood above his brother's dead body with a bloody dagger in his hand. He felt my gaze and looked up to meet my eyes. He was angry, really, really angry with me, but he didn't say a word. Instead, he spat on the ground and went to pick up his sword.

I tried not to care about his anger. It's just ego, I know it. But I'd really prefer to be called a 'cunt' over his stormy silence.

* * *

/Jon/

Two and a half months have passed since Andie left. One and a half months since King's Landing's new popular religion turned into that of 'love', 'peace' and 'John Lennon'.

He wrapped another opened wound, and wondered what the Night King is planning.

Something was off by the way the attacked weren't as common as they were at the start, and it worried Jon very, very much.

He looked at Daenerys from across the room, reading her scrolls and letter with her advisors. Her belly was swollen now, and there was no point in hiding it. They didn't marry yet, though. Jon didn't have an answer, he didn't know what to think. He needed an advice by someone who's not involved in the politics of Westeros. He needed Andie's advice.

"Your Grace!" a young squire barged into the room, panting. His cheeks were pink from running and from the cold of outside. Jon recognized him as one of Sam's squires.

Both Jon and Daenerys stood up from their sit and the young man was confused, not sure who to announce the message to. Jon blinked and exchanged glances with Daenerys. She was amused, and so was he. He turned to the squire, "Just tell both of us what it is, boy."

The boy swallowed and nodded, blinking, "A message came from south. The part you have sent to catch the Mad Queen is making its way back to Winterfell."

Jon tried not to look too pleased. Andie's coming back.

Daenerys raised an eyebrow, "And?" she asked, and then Jon remembered that there was an actual mission that had to be fulfilled.

"They have Cersei Lannister with them. They're going to bring her to a trial before you, your Grace."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Hey people! phew, finally I managed to write that chapter! Took me some time, but there it is.**

 **The pace might change from now on. like I said before, it's going to take me longer to post chapters now, but I intend on (trying) to write longer chapters, too.**

 **And yeyyy I can't wait for Andie's return to Winterfell, and Jon, and who knows? Maybe Cersei's going to be served some justice :)**

 **Let me know what you think!**

 **~A Girl Has Many Names~**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:**

 **Hello!**

 **Yep, I know it's been a long time since I posted. Oh, well.**

 **I didn't have much time to edit, too, because work. But I really wanted to share it with you, so there you go!**

* * *

It's been two weeks and the Hound didn't forgive me for interfering in the fight with his brother, and I couldn't bring myself to apologies for _saving his life_. I missed our filthy conversations, but that's fine. I had lively conversations with Joqhu. The type of conversations that ended with me really wanting to slap him in the face.

So I moved to talk to Brienne who, even though we were pretty much safe and pretty much completed the mission, had a sour face. I tried to start with something light.

"So, that Tormund guy was really giving you the eye back in Winterfell." I said lightly. Brienne's expression turned even more sour. _Oh, crap._

She pressed her lips. "That red bearded wildling is scaring me with those… looks of his." She said.

"The flirtatious type?" I asked with my eyebrow quirked. "You don't have to pay attention to that. Look how well I ignore Joqhu." I said, ignoring the laughing Dothraki behind me as a demonstration. "If he's not your type, don't sweat it."

"Don't _sweat_ what?" Brienne turned from sour to confused. I snorted in amusement.

"Never mind." I shrugged, thinking of a new subject to talk about. "So how long have you been serving the Stark sisters?"

About that, it seemed, Brienne didn't mind talking. She told me _everything_ -from King Renly's death (that she avenged, by executing Stannis), to Lady Catelyn Stark (I think Jon mentioned once that she was a bitch. But I guess she was a bitch to _him_ because Brienne talked about her as if she was the most inspiring woman she knew) and to how she found Arya, held by the Hound. At that, Clegane snorted. I looked back to him with a smirk, and he still looked pissed. I could see him making an effort not to call me 'cunt'.

"Hey, so you're saying you were actually traveling with Jaime across the country? That must be a whole different awesome story." At that Bienne blushed, but shook the blush quickly away.

"That's when he lost his hand." She said coldly and I swallowed. Not fun, really not fun. I turned my look to Podric.

"So when did you get in the picture?"

Pod looked happy that someone paid him attention. "I was serving Lord Tyrion, actually-"

"Oh, shut up!" I heard someone yell at us from the back. Oh, right. We had Cersei Lannister with us, and the Dothraki also took whoever was left of her servants and maids that I convinced them not to kill, one of them was Qyburn. They all walked except for the pregnant ex-queen, who was laying with her hands and legs tied on a small shaded wagon. One of the Dothraki wanted to slap her, but I raised my hand in a gesture to stop him. Cersei continued. "Shut up. I can't hear you talk anymore! You, and your degusting way of talking, and all of you traitors-"

"Oh, hi Cersei. Didn't see you there." I said and rode back to her wagon. "I heard you like music," I said and reached for a piece of cloth I had in my pocket in case I need to wipe my face.

"I never said that, you peasant Dothraki whore!" I took the cloth and jumped from Diana to Cersei's wagon. Joqhu smiled at me with a mischievous and understanding look in his eyes, like he knew what I was planning. I crumpled the cloth and shoved it in her mouth so she'll shut the fuck up. Every few hours she was complaining and cursing us all until her throat dried out and I just didn't feel like hearing any of that anymore.

"Here's a song for you, your majesty. Straight from some of the greatest singers in America," I got off the wagon and climbed back on Diana. "by the great band of musicians, 'Sesame Street'," I took an over exaggerated breath, and started to sing-shout with my best Cookie Monster impression;

"C is for cookie, it's good enough for me! C is for cookie, it's good enough for me! C is for Cookie, it's good enough for me! Oh! Cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C!"

Cersei wiggled in her wagon and then just turned her back to me, frustrated. I smiled smugly like the evil person I am, and went back to the conversation with Pod.

* * *

We skipped King's Landing, because Brienne said we will probably have to fight the smallfolk who'll want to lynch Cersei. The commoners in King's Landing hated Cersei more than any other commoner in the whole kingdom.

So we got our supplies in High Garden and headed west. Since leaving High Garden, Cersei had a bag on her head. I thought she was harmless, but Brienne told me the people in the west might recognize her, since House Lannister's seat was there, and her father was the last warden in the west. Cersei wasn't wearing her black dress and silver crown anymore-we changed her into plain clothes.

Another reason to make her hate us.

"How long is it going to be to get to Winterfell?" I asked Brienne as we set up a camp for the night.

"Assuming everything will go smoothly like it did for the first fortnight, I believe it will be at least a month and a fortnight to get there." She was busy making a fire before it will get dark.

"Urrgh." I grunted, annoyed. By the looks of Cersei, she'll be well into her ninth month when we get there and if she'll give birth in a secluded place like the north… what am I going to do with the baby? Give it to some fucking wolf to raise him as the white version of Mowgli?

Brienne looked annoyed with me. "We're moving as fast as we can, Andie."

I scratched my head and felt like a spoiled entitled brat. "You're right, I'm sorry." I said as my shoulders slumped. "I'm used to a much faster pace."

Later that night I asked Joqhu to teach me the Dothraki way of shooting arrows. He had a giant bow' and it was three quarters of my height, made of a black material he said was a dragon's bone. It was too extravagant for me, and also super heavy and fucking _big_ , but he also had a smaller bow made out of white wood I could use for my practice.

I showed him the stance I learned from Arya, and he snorted.

"No, no, no. You learned from one of them, didn't you?"

"She's a good fighter." I defended Arya's honor.

"And a stuck in the ground archer. You can't stand like that or hold the bow like that is you want to fight!" Joqhu stood next to me with his massive bow held in one hand. "You must be light, to be able to shoot while fighting, whether your enemy is a mile away or less than a foot with a knife in his hand, you must be ready. Like you are with those iron toys of yours."

I looked at how he stood, and where and how he was holding his spare arrows. It was nothing like Arya taught me and nothing like I remember from the movies, but the Hound told me the Dothraki are the best archers he ever saw, and I believe him. I guess being a good archer is not just about hitting a target from a safe distance, just like being a good shooter.

We were finally at the southern part of the north. That was when I understood the archery style Joqhu tried to each me. We were practicing every other night, sometimes in our lunch breaks. I could never be as good as him-it takes a lot of practice. He was shooting while _standing on his_ galloping _horse's back._ And he hit the fucking target. It looked like it took as much effort as it will to take a walk on a nice afternoon.

I could do the same with a gun, but not with a bow an arrow. I could hit targets while running, but they were never clean shots. It was frustrating, but at least it worked to some degree.

* * *

"Two weeks for Winterfell." I said with a smile while plucking the arrows out of the target. "I don't know if I should be happy or terrified about it."

Joqhu shrugged, "Why should you be terrified? Dying in a war for the Khaleesi is honorable."

I glowered to him and pressed my lips. I wasn't planning on dying for anyone. Maybe if I'll die while saving humanity it will be worth it. But hey! I'm young! I'm going to have my twenty second birthday in a few months. I'm practically a baby. "I never met those zombies. I don't know what to expect." I said.

Joqhu reached above my head to get an arrow I wasn't high enough to get. "They're just ugly half dead men and women with blue eyes and hunger for death."

"Oh, that makes me feel so fucking better."

Joqhu snorted and handed me the arrow. "You can not be a coward if you swore fir the Khaleesi."

"I'm not a coward," I snatched the arrow out of his hand, "I'm being realistic."

I walked away in a very grumpy mood. I don't get this whole blind loyalty and wanting to die for a noble cause. It's so infuriating how people here see their own lives as cheap.

I walked to my tent when I heard, "You don't want to die for her, do you?" I turned to look for the person who talked. Cersei was sprawled on the ground near her tent. She was tied to a tree with a chain, just like every other captive, but she was separate and had better accommodations. The others had only woolen blankets to keep the, warm. The reasons she had better travel and resting conditions were me insisting that we can't treat pregnant women like that, and also the fact that we wanted to bring her alive to Winterfell.

"What?" I asked, squinting my eyes to her, "You want me to sing you another song, Cersei? I'd _love_ so sing you a classic Britney Spears song."

"I was saying you're not loyal to your _queen_. I heard you talk with that barbarian that has his eyes for you. I am also counting the days until he'll rape you." She almost spat the word 'rape'. I clenched my jaw and turned to walk away, not even trying to defend my friend and archery teacher or my loyalty to anyone. I'm not even going to entertain her with a Britney Spears song.

Cersei was laughing almost maniacally behind me. "All of that noble talk of her, and she's going to murder a pregnant woman. If I'll give birth before we reach that wretched place the Starks call home, the whore will feed my child to one of her ugly beasts."

I sighed and turned around to face her again. "You're going to die. But I am not going to let anyone hurt an innocent baby." I said in determination.

"What will you get out of-"

"I'm not doing it for you. Not even for Jaime, or for Tyrion who asked me for help." She looked surprised when I mentioned both of her brothers, "I'm going to do it because _I_ won't be able to live with myself if I won't. Now go to bed."

* * *

/Jon/

Jon looked at the map before him, Davos to his right, as Jaime Lannister placed the small figurines on the table.

"How many have we lost?" Jon asked. Lannister sighed and shook his head.

"In the battle or in the war?" He asked, but didn't wait for Jon to answer. "We lost about a thousand in the last battle in the east. In the whole war… too many."

Jon turned around from the table. He couldn't face his and Daenerys's generals right now. He needed a moment to himself, even if it's short.

On the map behind him, there were many figurines-dragons, wolves, and lions were crammed together in Winterfell. The rest were white figurines with bright blue eyes, and they were everywhere. North, west, and now east. White Harbor was taken. It was clearer and clearer to Jon that the Walkers had some kind of strategy, and that they weren't just going to attack the, in a one directional wave of dead men. They were blocking his way, and now Jon knew they made their way south.

They were closing in, and they'll take Winterfell and then keep moving south to King's Landing… Or maybe they won't. The swamps at the neck might slow them… They'll have to destroy the Twins to make sure the wights will not cross that bridge.

"Any sight of Visserion?" Daenerys asked.

"No, your grace." A general said. "We didn't see the Night King himself either."

Jon turned back to face the rest and saw Daenerys looked tired, and frustrated, and didn't have much to say. "We have to keep trying." Jon said. "I will lead a force south-east. We need to make sure that if the enemy is going to close on south, the Twins's bridge will fall and slow them down on their way to the rest of the kingdom."

Daenerys looked like she wanted to protest, but swallowed her words. She knew, just like Jon did, that being selfish will not help them save anyone. They had to risk their lives. _Both_ of their lives. Even their child… as much as it pained Jon to think about it.

It wasn't a secret anymore that Daenerys was pregnant, and it wasn't a secret Jon was the father. Her belly was round and heavy and she walked funny sometimes. The dragons and Ghost became extra protective over her.

She laid a hand on her belly, "Sir Jaime," she said, "I shall join you with my forces to fight in the east. We have to break their forces there. I will leave Reaghal to protect Winterfell behind."

Jaime had his hand on his sword as usual and looked at the map, "Your grace, I think we will need both Dragons to defeat the amount of-"

"Winterfell must be protected." Jon cut in. Jaime gave him an annoyed look, but said nothing, so Jon continued. "I saw the army of the dead myself, I know what you saw in the east. I wish we could attack with full force, but they spread around us and we do not know from where they will attack. We do not know where the Night King is, or where…" He glanced to Daenerys, "Where the dragon is as well. If he could break down a part of the Wall, Winterfell will be nothing for him."

Jaime nodded in understanding. They moved on different subjects. No ravens from Andie-they heard from her a week ago when she crossed the neck. Cersei was still alive, and still pregnant.

 _They're in the south,_ the thought stroke Jon suddenly. _The Army of the Dead is closing in on them._

* * *

It was cold. It was snowy. My blood almost froze, but it didn't matter.

Winterfell was only two hours away.

I was happier than I've been in a long time. I missed the faces, I missed the warm meals, the warm bed-and, well, I missed Jon. And Ghost. And Arya. And Tormund.

Holly shit, I made a lot of friends here.

We passed a deserted village when Cersei started to cry in agony. The Dothraki tried to shoosh her, but she grunted. "You!" She called out to me. "Tell your barbaric friends to stop. I-urghh-I need to lay down somewhere safe."

I looked back at her in the wagon. She kept moaning in pain, restless. _Shit, she can't be serious, right? Now? Now of all times?_

"Just do it in there." I tried to offer.

"Are you that thick tat you can't understand he will die in that cold?!" Cersei screamed at me.

I exchanged looks with Brienne and the Hound, who was still not really talking to me, but it didn't matter. I needed his opinion. Joqhu, of course, looked like he couldn't care less about the Mad Queen. Clegane rolled his eyes and brought his horse to a stop.

"Let's get into one of those houses and light a fire. I hope the bitch will pop that creature out of her cunt fast."

I sighed in relief that he was on my side, even without talking. I knew we're almost at Winterfell-but Cersei and her baby might die on the way.

I didn't want innocent blood on my hands, even if it's not directly my fault. I knew it's something I can prevent. And maybe if Daenerys will face a living baby, she won't be able to do anything to it. Maybe that's what going to remind her of her compassion.

Cersei was grunting a moaning for thirty minutes now and her water didn't even break.

I don't even know how to help. I tried to bring her water, I tried to encourage her-and she looked like she wanted to bite me in response, so I shut up.

Something didn't feel right, but I never witnessed the…. _Miracle of birth_ before. I didn't know how it works.

Joqhu was agitated, his hands crossed over his chest and his foot jumped. "We need to go." He said.

"It's fine, relax." I said, but didn't really believe my own words. The I smirked up to him, "Are you scared, Joqhu?"

He looked even more annoyed. "There's a difference between being a coward and smart. It's not right."

Brienne was cleaning her sword at the corner, and stood up. "I'm with the Dothraki. Something doesn't feel right."

The Hound stood up as well and looked out of the window. "They're right, Andie," He said my name the first time in a long while, "Something doesn't feel right."

"But…" I tried to defend my case even though I knew it was wrong. Something was definitely wrong. Then. I started to hear something… Something was coming.

What I didn't notice while we were talking, was that Cersei was quiet. She looked completely calm next to the fire. Like she wasn't in crazy pain.

 _That fucking bitch_. She lied to me! That fucking, mad, evil-

"Andie, we have to go!" Brienne shouted as she looked out of the window, A terrified expression was on her face. "We have to go, _now_!"

I didn't even… think at that moment. Cersei was having that cruel smug expression on her face from across the room. I don't know if she knew that's going to happen, but she definitely hoped it will.

I walked over to her with clenched fists, my knuckles probably turned white under the gloves. "Why?" I asked, "Why?! You… you…"

"Andie, shut up and get on your horse!" The Hound shouted at me and grabbed me away. Joqhu lifted Cersei in his arms and Brienne was already out with the rest of the warriors.

Cersei was laughing. "You all will die with me, savages!" She Screamed.

The sound, that weird scary sound from the distance became louder as we mounted the horses. We didn't even take the rest of the prisoners, and the horses bolted north.

I could barely change the bullets in my guns to the dragonglass ones when the roaring sound of thousand running feet became clearer in my ears.

I looked back, and then I saw them.

You know how disgusting and terrifying zombies are in movies with good make up department?

So take that and double it, twice.

They smelled bad even though they were far away and frozen, kinda. They ran in a wave of bones and torn flesh and rotten clothes and chattering teeth. Some had weapons, some had nothing but bones, and those bright blue eyes-crazy, scary unnatural eyes,

My heart was racing when I saw some of them were riding horses as well. Dead horses.

And they were closing in on us, as Cersei couldn't contain her crazy laugh.

 _We have to make. We have to_.

And then our first man was taken down and a pile of dead ice zombies were piling on him and his horse. My breath stopped in my throat and I tried to clear my mind.

Then I started shooting. Joqhu was shooting his dragonglass arrows as well, and Brienne was slashing with her Valyrian steel sword at them. The Hound was cutting and killing as well, and everyone was putting their best efforts in the fight. But it won't help. There were too many of them. It seemed like an endless wave, and I didn't know if we were going to make it at all when our fifth gut was dragged off his horse into the madness.

I felt a boney hand clutch around my ankle and the panic almost made me freeze, but Joqhu shot and arrow at the wight that tried to attack me.

They were everywhere and our horses were frightened, and did tried to run through the sea of bones. I saw one of them grab Pod, and shot the dead man in the head. Podrick only had one moment to breath in relief when other two wights grabbed his hand and he fell off his horse.

"Podrick!" I yelled in panic. "No!" Fuck, that kid-well he wasn't too young from me but still-that kid just… he just…

Brienne looked awful. She had scratched on her face and her horse was bleeding. I could see she was fighting back the tears as well.

I couldn't even take the time to cry. I shot two dead zombies that climbed on the back of Diana, that was crying in terror. Then, I shot to the side to take down a zombie that attacked another one of out group. Then tried to help the Hound. Everything felt like a storm-it was hard to understand what was going on around us. It was horrifying when Podrick tried to stab Brienne's leg-now as a dead soldier. She had to put her sword through his head.

We did make some progress in Winterfell's direction, but is it even a good idea to bring all of those wights with us?

* * *

/Jon/

They were getting ready to go. Jon south, Daenerys east, and Sansa and Arya would stay behind to take care of Winterfell with Davos.

Jon stood on the wall and looked south. Daenerys stood beside him, then shifted closer to the edge.

"Do you see it?"

Jon squinted his eyes, and saw something too. It looked like a wave of snow… like…

"Fuck." Was all he could say. "We have to go, Daenerys. We might be late but…"

Daenerys let out a small breath. "Jon, I know-"

But he didn't really hear her. "We know what it is out there! Andie could be there, we have to go!"

Daenerys pressed her lips and gave him a small nod. Jon was running down and called all the warriors he could think of. Most of the army was already ready to go.

Above him, he saw the dragons in the air.

 _Please don't have blue eyes when I see you. Please be safe._

* * *

We managed to put some distance between us and the wights-it was only me, the Hound, Brienne, Joqhu and Cersei on his horse that was left.

Joqhu was in the lead and me behind him.

Then, I heard something else. Something that came from north. Something that came from _the sky_.

The dragons dove low when they passed us and shot fire at the wights. Daenerys was burning the wights behind, but they were still running towards us like crazy.

I was still shooting as best as I could, and some of the zombies caught up with us again, even thought there were less of them. I didn't even have the time to look at the dragons in awe, because a few minutes after that-while again in a sea of wights, I saw a big group of mounted soldiers- _human soldier_ riding towards us.

I want to tell you I felt relief. I didn't. I felt guilty.

And I didn't even have to time for that. I was trying to count how many bullets I've had left-not too many.

I looed at Joqhu, who was shooting and ran out of arrows. He was using his dragonglass knife. I glanced at Cersei, who looked frightened like all of us, but there was still something cold in he eyes. Her hands weren't tied… and she moved to fast. I could only shout for Joqhu, but he didn't hear me when Cersei Lannister took a steel knife out of his belt and stabbed his back. It didn't kill him, but the pain and the surprise were enough to startle him. In that moment, less than a second, the wights grabbed him off of his horse. I wanted to scream, I wanted to shoot Cersei, I wanted to have a fucking nuclear bomb to drop om that whole mess-but after a second, they grabbed Cersei as well, and the horse, too.

 _No, no, no. no._ One part of me was getting into a manic grief. _Stay focused, Andie. You can't lose yourself now._

So I shot wights again. I shot the living dead Joqhu, and then our soldiers arrived to the battle as well. I felt the tears roll on my cheeks, but I couldn't let myself break down.

I had some bullets left, but I needed to keep them, so I took the knives out of my boots and slashed and stabbed as best as I could.

I saw Jon, too. He was on the ground with Longclaw in his hands and killed in the fastest pace I saw anyone kill with a sword.

There were less of them, finally. Our soldier killed and burned and the dragons helped us from the skies. We held them off, and I started to feel more confident. I ignored the loss, for now.

And then I was knocked off Diana by a wight that jumped on me. This one didn't have a weapon, but its long boney fingers were digging into my calf and his teeth were sharp, and I felt myself scream. I took my knife and stabbed his skull. He let go at once, but I couldn't take the knife out of the damn thing.

I was limping, but still shot and killed as much as I could. In the distance I heard a wolf howl-and hoped Ghost is killing and not getting killed.

I tried to run to the general direction of Winterfell, but my leg killed me. I could feel it bleed, and the pain shot up al the way to my spine. _No modern medicine to help me with that_ , the short thought passed my mind as another wight jumped and knocked me to the ground, with my face in the snow.

Snow might look fluffy. It's not fluffy when you fall face first into it with a skeletal zombie with a fucking spear in his hands on your back.

I tried to raised and pushed with my hands, but he was surprisingly heavy. My heart was beating in a crazy pace when I realized it could be the end of me. I felt a stab in my back, and prayed to every god I knew-from Earth, from Westeros, from pop culture-that It didn't puncture my lung or my heart, because here they can't help me with it. I didn't know how badly I was hit, because everything hurt. I was ready for another blow. _Please kill me if I'm going to turn into a mindless zombie._

But the knees that were digging into my back were gone. _Jon?_ I was thinking in a haze when someone picked me up in their hands. I blinked the foggy feeling away and looked up at the sky. Then to my side.

 _It can' be Jon, that person is too high._ I was thinking and looked up again to the blurry face that started to clear.

The Hound's scarred face hovered above me and he was running through the mass of fighting humans and zombies. I got a glimpse at Brienne on a horse, killing a wight that almost had Jaime Lannister- _he's here too? Just promise me you won't die too, ok?_

The Hound grunted and stopped near a horse. I looked up and couldn't really see what was happening, but I felt he was passing me up to someone that sat on that horse.

"Take her to Winterfell, now!" The Hound was heaving.

I blinked up, and felt the familiar hands hold me safely on the horse. Now that was Jon… when did he have to time to go on the horse? I have no fucking idea. I think I missed a big chunk of everything.

"Clegane-climb up." Jon said in a voice that sounded from a distance and not inches away.

"The horse will be too slow. Go. You, and everyone else that was lucky enough to keep their own horses. I'll try to make it."

"That's your horse, I can't leave you beh-"

"Get Andie to a fucking maester!"

Then something cleared in my head. The pain was almost gone with a rush of adrenalin.

"No, no. Don't stay." I mumbled. I felt something shift, and then some wind and I knew we were on the move.

"No!" I yelled. "Don't leave him behind!" I straightened my back, taking short breaths. "Jon, turn back, turn back!"

Only now I had a good look on his face-he had a cut on his hairline that dripped blood all over his face, and his hair was wet with sweat. Jon didn't listen to me, he focused on riding with every other living human. I looked down to my hand and they were bloody as well-I didn't know if it was my blood or his or somebody else's. "Jon, please!" I felt the tears roll. "Please stop, he saved me I have to help. Sandor!"

But I knew, and Jon knew, that it's not going to happen. Going back there will be the dumbest thing anyone can do.

With a big breath, I grabbed one of my guns, feeling a sharp pain in my back.

"What are you doing. Andie?" Jon shouted through the wind. I ignored him and tired to turn around in my place. I was sitting in front of Jon who was half supporting me, half holding the harnesses and encouraging the horse to ride faster. I turned myself in his direction, but it wasn't his pretty-boy face I was looking at. I looked over his shoulders and saw the wights stand in line in the ashes and mud as flames separated us from them. But I could still see pretty well-and one of them who was standing n line was higher than the rest.

"You can't help him now, Andie." I heard Jon's low voice near my ear.

I swallowed some tears away and looked at the Hound's scarred face and shaggy beard, and his now glowing, bright blue eyes.

And before I got dizzy again and everything turned black, I made a shot to his head.

"Yes," I said and my head became heavy as I laid it on Jon's shoulder, "I can."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Hey! Hoped you liked that one. It took me a long time to write even though I really wanted to.**

 **Tell me your thoughts in the reviews :)**

 **~A Girl Has Many Names~**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N**

 **Helllooooo**

 **Yep, it's been a while. I didn't have time to write anything. So, yeah. That's it for now... enjoy~~~**

* * *

Everything hurt. Every, fucking thing.

This is the first thing I feel when I wake up after who-the-fuck-knows how long. Sharp pain in my back. Hot pain all through my ankle. Pain, pain, pain. It was painful to breath, and I felt like my eyes are glued.

I opened my eyes slowly and let the light enter. At first it was a blur-I saw the orange light of the fire dance to my right and some silhouettes. The room became clearer, and but I didn't really look around.

It was quiet except for the crackling noise of the fire and the soft breaths of an animal... Marylin? No, no. I don't have a fireplace in my… oh, damn it. How did I even think I'm home? I've been in Westeros for… five? Maybe six months? Maybe more?

I felt a chill in the back of my neck, reminding me the attack of the wights, the deaths of my friends, of… even Cersei. Cersei is dead. She died before giving birth… I couldn't keep my promise to Tyrion. I couldn't save that baby.

I looked up at the ceiling, sad, and angry, and in pain. So much fucking pain. And alone, again.

I lifted my head to get a better look at the room.

It's not the room they gave me the first time I was here. There are book shelves and a bigger fur rug and a bigger bath and-everything was bigger here. The whole room. I looked at the door-and saw the animal that was breathing. Ghost. He was sleeping, blocking the way to anyone who'd like to get in.

I finally recognized the room. It was Jon's, for some reason. Talking of the bastard, where is he?

I sat up in bed, and the pain that shot through my body- _again_ -made me gasp. Ghost woke up and stood quickly on his feet.

"Hey, buddy." I said and slowly turned in his direction. I was wearing some kind of a gown. I guess it's the Winterfell hospital gown, but in better taste than the ones I know from home. I struggled and cursed as I put my legs on the fur carpet. It was hard to breath, so fucking harder than I'm used to, yet I took a huge breath and stood up.

That was a mistake. My legs didn't agree with me, since they didn't work properly and collapsed under my weight. I cried in pain and Ghost rushed over me and licked my face. I guess I was in that bed for a while if that's how my legs are responding.

"It's not helping, Dog." I said, breathing heavily. He pushed me with his nose, trying to get me to stand up. "I think I'll just stay on the-"

The door opened loudly before I could finish my sentence. Dripping water with pants and an open long sleeved shirt, right after a shower, I believe, came in the King in the North, muscles and beautiful scars exposed to everyone to appreciate. "Andie!"

"Stay there!" I yelled at him and he stopped in confusion.

"What happened?" He asked, worried.

"I just need that picture to stay in my mind." I said with a sigh, then looked down at the floor, dizzy. In my fragile state, I gotta enjoy anything the universe will give me, right?

Jon scoffed and walked over as he tied his shirt together. "I'm glad you woke up, but you don't look well."

"Because I'm not well." I coughed. "My legs are not working like I want them to." I wiggled my toes. "How long was I out?"

Jon lifted me like a princess, warm from the bath he probably took. It was nice, except for the part where everything still hurt. He tried to be gentle as he put me back in the big bed. "Six weeks."

I just stares at him for a second or two. Then I felt my breath becoming rapid and shallow. "How-what? I was… I was…"

"You needed time to heal. Our measters did well, the best they could. You were out on the milk of the poppy, so you wouldn't feel the majority of the pain." He looked at my pained expression and put a hand over my forehead as if to check my temperature. "I think you still need some." I shifted in my bed, pouting.

"No, I don't need more opioids. I don't want to be out anymore." I tried to sit up again. Jon helped me by supporting my back. "Where is everyone? The wights? The Walkers?"

Jon sighed. "We had more battles. It seems they are surrounding Winterfell, but not attacking yet. They only fight back when we attack them. For now… We are almost out of flamethrowers, but they helped more than we could imagine."

My eyes watered as I remembered the Hound turning into a wight for a second before I killed him, giving him a true rest. "They all fought with courage. So did you, Andie." Jon said as if he knew what was going on in my mind.

"I'm so angry," I said, choking my tears back. "They didn't deserve to die. Not like this."

"No one does," Jon said softly. His hand didn't leave my back even though I was sitting now on my own. "Don't blame yourself."

"I-it _was_ my fault. I was the reason we stopped… Cersei. She lied to me, she said she's going into labor. I was sure… I thought…" the tears came up now, "I wanted to save that baby. I promised Tyrion, I even promised that bitch I wouldn't let anything happen to the kid…"

"But the child died before it was even born, Andie. It's better this way." Jon tried to comfort me, but I didn't care. The tears escaped my eyes.

"It doesn't matter, Jon. I _promised_ , can't you see?" I was choking on tears now, and it hurt me so much to cry. I could barely breath. My view turned blurry.

I felt Jon's warm and strong hands circle me firmly and I pressed my face into his chest, grabbing his shirt in my fists, and just let it out. I was crying my heart out, then sobbing quietly, angry and sad and ashamed and scared and frustrated and everything at once. It's just so unfair. The physical pain wasn't important. I survived, somehow. So many people hasn't. How many days until I die too? I'll never find a way back home. This place… it's not my home. It's crazier than I thought. It's starting to be too much.

My fists became weaker, and I wasn't crying anymore. I didn't have any tears left. I took slow, deep and painful breaths through Jon's now wet shirt. I was tired. Exhausted. I listened to his heart and his breath and closed my eyes, concentrating on the warmth. I didn't feel completely safe in his arms-I never feel completely safe. But I felt _safer_.

"Andie," he said quietly. "What was your given name, when you were a child?"

"Hmm?"

"The third question I had. I wanted to know what was your name before you were took away by cartel."

"Oh." I mumbled and broke out of his arms, wiping my eyes with my hands. I took another deep breath. I guess it's a nice distraction to talk about it. "Artemis."

"Artemis?" Jon looked to his side in wonder. "That's an interesting name."

I shrugged and sniffed at the same time, still recovering from the long minutes of crying. "Yeah, it is. It's the name of the greek goddess of hunt, wildlife and the moon. She was a good archer, too."

Jon gave me a weak smile, a bit amused. "You are a good shooter, and not a bad archer either." Then he sighed and looked at the ceiling, then back to me. "I'm not sure about the hunting part."

"Yeah, it's pretty ironic I came out to be a vegan."

"Ironic?"

I tried to think about examples for irony, "Hmm… well, it's like a pilot who has a fear of heights, or a teacher that fails the test. Or when the fire station is burning down." He didn't seem to fully understand it. I found myself giving him a smile after a long while, "Or when a poor bastard from the north who's being treated unfairly by royalty and novelty is found out to be the rightful heir to the throne."

Jon smiled back. Then he looked a bit more serious. "Alright, I'll go get the maester. You still need treatment, and he needs to know you are awake now."

I pressed my lips and remembered the pain again. Our little light hearted conversation distracted me from reality. I nodded and turned my head to look at the window. It wasn't sunny, but it looked like it's the afternoon, kinda.

* * *

The measter applied some ointments to my wounds, and it stung like hell. Jon didn't look when I didn't have my clothes on, and looked pretty embarrassed in his little corner of shame. He only jumped and had a quick glance when I cried in pain, but then turned again, red faced. I found it funny. Most of my upper body had bandages over it anyways. Those middle-ages people with their weird sense of humility.

"Your Grace, the young lady-president seem to have a strong spirit and a strong body," The measter said to Jon as he collected his little bottles and jars. "I believe there will be a full recovery in four weeks. Until then, I recommend sleep, rest, warm baths and good meals."

"When can I go out and meet people?" I asked, still in pain from that damn ointment.

The measter pressed his lips. "Maybe in a week or so. I fear the cold will not do good to your health. You are too wounded right now."

I bit the inside of my cheek. I really wanted to go outside, but I'm not going to fight with a wise old man. I just waited for him to leave while watching that disgusting syrup he wanted me to have once a day before breakfast, laying on the table.

Jon now wore his full indoors grabs-the leather armor, the boots, the sword. I guess you have to be ready for a fight all of the time here. It looked like he was getting ready for something, maybe a war meeting.

"You should've taken the milk of the poppy," he said and paced a bit in the room, "it's going to be rather boring in here the next week. But there is a visitor that wanted to see you when you wake up."

"Oh, I'll be fine. There are tons of books here, maybe Sam can recommend some." I sighed and tried to get out of bed again. "I'll do some exercise. I have to stay in shape, I have to come back and help." I managed to lift myself, but stumbled again. This time, fortunately, I had Jon to catch me by my arms.

"It's going to take some time for your legs to wake. You were laying in bed this whole time. This is why…" He looked down. His hands slid down from my elbows to my hands. "I'm not going to send you out to the field again."

I just looked down at our hands, furious. "We went over this before, Jon Snow. I'll just go to Daenerys, she'll be glad to send me to the fire line." Thinking about her reminded me I was angry with her so, so much. She was going to kill the baby. Tyrion couldn't put it clearer than that. I don't think I want to be loyal to her anymore, but I'm not going to hurt her, too. Just yell at her, probably. And lose my head for it, possibly.

"No, it's not it. I think I have a better thing for you to do."

"Bake bread?"

Jon looked up and caught my eyes with a short glance and a smile. "No, you won't be baking bread." He let go of my hands. I forgot we held them for so long. I'm so dumb, sometimes. Why am I letting him do this to me?

I sat back on my bed and stretched my legs. This much, they could do. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Keep an eye on my child," Jon said and sounded dead serious. "You're one of the few people I trust enough to do so." He walked to the door.

I just stared at him with my mouth half open in shock. His child? His baby… Daenerys' baby. She's still pregnant, though, so I believe…

"You want me to be the Queen's bodyguard? Doesn't she have enough bodyguards?" I asked.

"I want you to protect the child. Daenerys has as many guards as she needs." He put his hand on the handle. "But you need to get better. So get as much rest as you can, and drink that fucking medicine." Then he opened the door and got out, leaving me alone in my room with my thoughts.

* * *

Exercising while being wounded is hard. It's painful as fuck, but I did my best. The first day I just moved my legs as much as I could, then I started stretching them. When Arya told me Jon went to another battle, my training pace grew faster. I have to go out and help. I hate being useless.

In the next few days I walked around my room restless. I even managed to jump and squat, which caused more pain and one of my wounds to open and bleed, but I just had to do it. Reading wouldn't help. The need to get better was the thing that kept me going.

After a few stretches on the fourth day since I woke up, I heard a knock on the door. _Jon's back!_ My mind shouted with relief. "Come in." I said, and the door opened.

I was disappointed. It wasn't Jon… it was Daenerys. With a huge, _huge_ , baby bump. Her Dothraki guards wanted to come in with her, but she let them go with a wave of her hand. The door closed behind her and she looked at me, so fucking queenly as usual. "I see you are doing well." She said with relief in her voice. "I came in as fast as I could. I had so much to do, and Drogon wouldn't let me go out and-"

"You lied to me." I said with more bitterness and coldness than I intended. Daenerys looked taken aback. I just had to say it. I was so, very upset about being manipulated.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You said you wouldn't hurt a child, that they're innocent. But Tyrion said you'd kill Cersei's baby."

Daenerys sighed and her hands moved to her belly instinctively. She looked around the room. "Cersei and her unborn child are dead, aren't they?"

"It's not about that," I said and rose from my bed, "It's about your intentions, and the fact you lied to me."

Daenerys sighed again and walked around my bed and stood next to the window, looking outside. "The Lannister baby is a threat to mine, believe it or not. I know, they're innocent. You know which baby was innocent as well?" She turned to look at me, "Me. I was an innocent baby. Yet I was a threat to the Usurper. Only a few people prayed for my house to go back and rule, and my brother and I were their hope. The Usurper did anything he could to eliminate the threat. The Lannister men viciously murdered my niece and nephew. I wasn't even born. But when word arrived to Robert Baratheon's ears of my brother and mine's escape, the assassins weren't late to come. To try to wipe out any Targaryen, until the last of us. They even tried to poison me when I was first pregnant."

Daenerys' hands didn't leave her belly while she was speaking, "Don't you think there will be people, _traitors_ , praying for the Lannisters return to the throne? _My_ throne? My _child's_ throne? I wouldn't let it happen. I wouldn't have let Cersei's child live in fear of murder as well. Death at the start of it would've solved it quickly. Even growing in our own ranks, the child might become an angry, resentful young Usurper. Just like that boy, Greyjoy betrayed the Starks." she walked back and looked at the library. I was angry by her story. Nothing about it was right, or merciful, or just. Not what she went through, and not her conclusion. I wanted to remind myself that I live now in a world with different rules, but then again, why not changing them?

"It's not right." I said, and pointed at her, "You of all people. You should be the one to understand… how can you-" When she turned to face me, I stopped. Not because of her sharp violet eyes, or even the fact she had a tear rolling down her cheek, but because of that big bump. ' _Keep an eye on my child'_ Jon told me. I can't be in bad relationship with Daenerys. I have to protect the baby, like Jon asked me. "They're dead." I lowered my voice. "This whole discussion is irrelevant." I tried to straighten my posture, and again, everything ached.

Daenerys nodded in my direction. "I know you are upset with me, Andie Silver. But I am glad to have you on my side. _Our_ side." The queen walked towards my door. "I trust you." She said and opened a crack, then looked back. "I hope to gain your trust back. And I hope you will get better soon."

Then she got out of my room and closed the door behind her.

I wasn't sure what to make of it. Daenerys is a good person, mostly. A bit too in love with the throne, I guess. Well, it's what she sacrificed so much for. She's unforgiving, but she didn't get upset with me for what I said. She even trusted me enough to stay alone with me in the same room, when the door is closed and no one can see what's going on inside.

I was just too confused.

* * *

I could finally get out of my damn room.

The castle was quieter than usual. Most guards disappeared-probably moved to the efforts at the battle. I don't think there's a big chance of someone betraying the queen or the king or a lord or a lady. We're all on the same side. There's nothing to earn.

Well, there's nothing to lose as well.

My guns were sitting on my (well, Jon's) desk. I grabbed one of them just in case. Some maids and servants were walking about the castle, and I even met Tormund on my way to the great hall. If he's here, does it mean Jon's here too? The last time I heard from him. he was about to go out to another battle.

I felt pretty bad to ask Tormund where Jon was first thing as I met him, so I just gave him a hug as we entered the hall to eat.

The food wasn't as rich as before. It was still satisfying, but I could notice the lack of the piles of meat and cheese and wine that was spilling all over the place from time to time. People had their servings-fighters had more than advisors, maids had less fatty foods than the hunters that had to go and hunt in the cold.

Tormund was enjoying his half-chicken and one goblet of wine as we caught up on everything. He said Brienne is well and he visited her many times. She didn't seem to like that too much, though, but appreciated the little flower he found and gave her. Thinking about Tormund Giantsbane handing a tiny, delicate flower to Brienne of Tarth warmed my heart.

"And then the fuckers tried to get to my back, because I was burning everything at my front. No worries, I only have a few bites. Mr pretty face was at my side with his Valyrian steel sword to slay the cunts."

He saw my little jump at the mentioning of Jon and drank some wine before saying, "He's fine. He's back."

"Good." I said and slurped the end of my potato soup. "This is yummy." I looked around the hall-there were many people eating. laughing. It seems they bonded over fighting at the same side. Lannister soldiers sat with northmen who sad with Dothrakis. Women who looked comfortable in their armor sat with them as equals, without too many lady manners. They all had battle scars, and I imagined they were telling their battle stories. Daenerys and Jon should see this. It will make them proud.

Then I saw someone sit alone at the end of the bench. His plate and goblet were full, but he didn't show any interest in the food. I recognized his short blond hair from the other side of the room, and the stiff golden hand laying in his lap. Jaime Lannister.

"I think someone is in need of some cheering." I said and took a sip from my goblet. I stood up and took my plate and goblet in my hands.

Tormund was winking at me suggestively, "Oh, I see. _Cheering,_ ain't it?"

I rolled my eyes at him. Kicking him was very tempting, but all I said was, "You'll never have a chance with Brienne if you keep you mind in the gutter."

Tormund looked completely offended. He looked at me with big eyes and asked, "The gutter? Where is it? My head is right on my shoulders, what do you mean ya little fuck…" But I wasn't listening. I turned and walked over to Jaime. On my way a maid took away my plate.

I sat in front of the brooding blond. "Brooding suits you almost like it suits Jon Snow."

Jaime looked awful. He didn't lift his eyes off the table. "I'm trying my best." He said, without that cocky arrogance he usually uses to cover his insecurities and doubt.

I tried to catch his gaze, but it looked like he was in a different place. Glazed eyes and empty stares. "Hey," I said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Now Jaime lifted his eyes so he can scoff and say with his cocky attitude, "No you're not. You're probably as glad as the rest of Westeros. My sister's death almost made _me_ raise a glass and celebrate."

I shifted a little on the bench. "It's not just your sister," I said with a meaningful look. "And if you want to grief for her as well, who cares? You loved her, didn't you? It doesn't matter she was a bitch."

Jaime was quiet for a little bit, then drank some of his ale. He swallowed and wiped his lips with the back of his good hand, "More than a bitch." There was a paused, then he lifter his goblet. I blinked in confusion as his drank more, then gulped the whole thing.

"You should eat before you get drunk." I said quietly. "You really do look like shit, though."

"Every hope I had for a child of mine… a _living_ child of mine, is dead. But they'd kill them anyway, right? Even if you managed to do your job right and get them here safely." There's that arrogant tone coming back to his voice. Too much poison in his voice, actually, and I didn't like it.

I pushed his plate towards him. "Eat." I said. "It's ok to be angry and hurt, but eat before you make fun of yourself."

"'Ok'?" The blond asked.

"Fine." I said. "It's fine to be hurt." Jaime scoffed and shifted in his sit.

He threw a piece of rolled paper over the table. I picked it up. The broken seal had the Targaryen symbol on it.

I rolled the paper open and read-

' _Dear brother, the time has come, hasn't it? Finally you are completely free of Cersei. Sadly, for my best understanding, the child did not survive. At least it wasn't born. Worry not, brother mine. The bigger picture is brighter, although it might just be the white glow of the White Walker. I can't tell, from here. The city still smells like shit. You are very missed. Good fortune in the wars to come._

 _Drink another goblet for me, would you? For a life without Queen Bitch!'_

"Well, it seems Tyrion is happy."

"I don't know if he is," Jaime said. "He probably feels like he missed the chance to kill her himself."

I blinked at him, and sighed. Those fucked up families of Westeros, am I right? But the guy was a bit too much broken. It looks like he's having too many mixed feelings. "Hey. You're a commander. You can't let it take you from your soldiers. They're looking up to you."

Jaime didn't really listen to me. He just looked annoyed when he said, "What are you doing here anyways? Are you making sure I'm still loyal to your _queen_ and _king_?"

I blinked, a little surprised from the sharpness in his voice. He's not drunk yet, is he? It's been a week. I didn't think he'll still be so… miserable.

"Hey, I'm not here to do that! I'm just-"

"Well tell them I'm here until the Dead will win the war."

I gritted my teeth and stood up. Those are drunk man's words, but they upset me nonetheless. "Jaime Lannister, you listen to me right now." I made sure I wasn't too loud so I won't embarrass him in front of his soldiers, "You go and have a cold shower to wake you up. Man up and take care of yourself. Life is shit. People we love die. But you can't let the darkness consume you. You gotta suck it in and let it out after this whole mess is over," And then, to clarify everything, I added, "Capish?"

He just looked up and blinked, probably doesn't know what 'capish' means. I decided it was a good time to get out of there.

There's too much bitterness here. I feel like shit, everyone feels like shit. We need some music or something. Heck, if I could play 'Uptown Funk' I wish it could bring a smile to everyone's faces.

* * *

It was cold in the evening, like usually, so I sat in front of the fireplace with one of Jon's black sapes on. It seemed to do the trick.

I wasn't hungry enough for dinner. I didn't have much appetite. I missed home, and that's all I could think about.

The never ending noises of cars and the subway and people. The street lights at night. The smell of coffee and toast in the morning. The sky above the skyscrapers. The trees that had roots so strong they lifted the sidewalk. The immigrants. The disgusting smell of pee, and right after that the sweet smell of donuts. Oh, man. How I miss donuts…

"Dinner?" I heard a very familiar voice. I looked at the door and smiled at Jon that held a bowl of soup in his hand. "I brought some bread, too."

"Aren't you supposed to eat with your people?" I asked, even though I was happy to see him. He was the type of person that eats with his peers and commanders at least. If he could he's shove all of the smallfolk in there too.

"I had some already." He shrugged and place the steaming bowl in my hands.

"What's the soup of the day?" I asked.

"Potato." "Potato." We said at the same time. I didn't really have to ask, I knew it's gonna be the answer.

Jon sat on the chair at the side of my chair. I was eating in silence for a while, and he ripped the bread, handing me a half.

"You gotta eat more than half a bread, Jon Snow." I said as I stuffed my mouth with food. The presence of someone close to me gave me my appetite back. Also, the thought of donuts.

Jon chuckled. "It's been a long time since someone called me with my bastard name. I'm King Jon, or Your Grace, or the King in the North-"

"Jon Snow suits you better than all of that crap." I said and took a big bite of bread dipped in soup again, "And so does eating. You're the king, you're supposed to eat more than that. You're also fighting, don't you forget."

Jon sighed and straightened himself in his chair. "I know, it's just… well, tomorrow we are going to have a feast."

"A feast?"

"Aye. This is what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Why are you going to have a feast?" I took another bite of my food. It was too good.

"We are going to have a feast because…" He took a big breath, "Well, that's what they do in royal weddings, do they?"

I swallowed and stared at him for a while. It felt like all of the noise in the world was silenced, and here was him and I, and the fire, and that's it. I forgot about the soup completely.

I should've expected that, shouldn't I? I was pretty clear. It was the right thing to do, by that world's rule. They love each other-there's a baby on the way-there's a deal that needs to be sealed. If something is going to happen to one of them, no one will have a doubt who's the next ruler will be. A big, royal wedding, will be good for the moral and the mood here in Winterfell. It's gonna be perfect, right?

Right.

"Andie?"

I blinked and a smile slowly crept on my face. "That's, um…. That's great. Oh, man. A royal wedding. Are the dragons gonna be the ring carriers?"

"Ring carriers?"

"Who's gonna be the best-man? I'm sure Sam will do an _amazing_ job. And Sansa as a bridesmaid with Missandei-phew, it's gonna be the wedding of the century. Well. Tyrion's not here, so Davos will be the perfect guy to hand the bride over."

"Best-man? Bridesmaid?" Jon blinked at me. "What are you talking about, Andie?"

I looked down into my soup. It didn't look as good as it did before. "Nothing, nothing. I was just… never mind." I looked up to him and bit the inside of my cheek. I care about Jon, and I'll be there for him with every decision he'll be making. "So, tomorrow then?"

"Aye," Jon looked into the fire. "We thought to do it as fast as we could. The feast is going to be humble, but comparing to what we've had in the last two months… And the musicians will have something to do as well. There are too many fools to choose from."

"Ya mean the whole castle?" I asked. Well, wedding problems are wedding problems, doesn't matter if you're a fool or a king I guess. "Just have a blast and smile more than you usually do and people will take it as a good sign." It managed to get another chuckle out of the nervous king.

"After the feast we'll have a true ceremony in front of the old gods," Jon said. "It's important to my people. But it's going to be small. Only close members of the family… and generals… and you."

"Yeah, sure. I'll come." I went back to me soup.

"It's outside, in front of the weirdwood tree."

I stopped eating. "Outside."

"Aye-"

"At night?"

"Andie, it's gonna be short-"

"Are you out of your _mind?_ I don't even care about the fucking Walkers. It's gonna be freezing!"

Jon didn't say anything until he saw I calmed down and went back to eating. He just leaned back in his chair and watched the fire. I didn't like the idea of standing outside at night, freezing to my bone, watching a wedding-one of the most boring events in the world in my opinion-at the risk of turning into an icicle. But, oh well, it's good to have someone with a gun out there. Also, Jon wants me to be there, so I'll be there for him.

Then he said out of the blue, "I wanted you to sing something as well."

I almost spit my soup out through my nose. " _Sing?_ What do you want me to sing?" I asked, confused.

Jon shrugged. "I liked what you sang back there."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Bob Dylan didn't write 'Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall' for weddings, Jonny boy."

"Jonny boy?" Jon blinked at me, then focused again on being an annoying puppy. "Any song you will do… I told Daenerys about the songs I heard in New York, and she loves music and poetry…"

"Is that your wedding gift?"

"A song from foreign lands is a great wedding gift, isn't it?" Jon looked less confident.

I was thinking for a moment, "It's funny that you call the States a 'foreign land', but I guess it is for some people." I shrugged. "And since YouTube is not a thing here yet, I believe it's an awesome gift." I smiled and gave him a thumbs up. Jon wasn't very used to that gesture so he just looked at my thumb, super confused. Then he relaxed, and leaned back in his chair.

"I'm just trying to think… well, I'm not going to have a guitar, am I?" Jon shook his head. "Acapela it is, then."

* * *

Why the fuck am I here? Really, why am I sitting here, on the high table with all of those important people, looking at the crowd feasting and drinking and being so damn happy?

I mean, yeah. I'm kinda happy too. Well, I am. Jon looked stressed out and he didn't touch his wine. Daenerys didn't touch her wine since I warned her it's a dumb idea to drink alcohol while pregnant, but she did eat. Oh, she ate, like, a whole moose. And some potatoes, too.

People started dancing, and it looked much more fun than sitting and watching. The music was good-too bad I couldn't play any of those old fashioned instruments. I felt my foot tapping along.

The ceremony was nice. It was in both the 'common tongue' and Dothraki and Valyrian, because we're a multicultural, multi linguistic community here. They had some vows, and that priest guy tied their hand together, and a blanket was involved. The Dothraki came one by one and offered small gifts for their queen, and now king. Or should I say, their khaleesi and khal?

It was fun to see the excited expressions in the crowd. I was smiling, too. The smells from the kitchen were delicious.

So was the food.

I also had two and a half goblets of wine.

After half an hour of watching people dance, I decided I should, too. So I got off my damn chair and walked down off the stage. At the corner of my eye I saw a glimpse of blond and turned with a smile. "Hey Jaime, waaaassssaaaap?"

The best ways to greet a Lannister are the kind of ways the leave them wordless for a second or two.

Jaime stared at me, then shook my dumbness away. "I just wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was drunk, and acted like a spoiled child."

"Instead of a spoiled thirty-something year-old?" I asked. He looked a bit offended by it. "Nah, I'm kidding. You were acting like a heart broken human. It doesn't mean you weren't a jerk, but still, I get you."

Jaime finally had a small smile on his face. Much nicer than the brooding face. We should keep 'brooding mode' for the King himself. "How much did _you_ drink tonight, _Lady Andie_?"

"Don't you _dare_." I poked his armor-clad chest, "Now Let's go slay the dance floor, so outta my way." I was about to walk past him but he stopped me with his hand.

"You're going to _slay_ _what_ exactly?"

"I'm going to dance, pretty boy." I said, "Are you coming?"

"I don't _dance_." He scoffed. I just shrugged and walked to the little space where people danced, just enjoying my time, dancing with people of all kinds, thinking of home.

* * *

Again, why the fuck am I here? Freezing, my feet deep in the snow, a bit fuzzy from wine, under that creepy tree.

And then I looked at Arya to my right, and Sansa beyond her, and Bran and Sam and Missandei and Jorah and more in that small group, and at the end Jon and Daenerys, and they looked joyful. Something so rare here in Winterfell. They held each other's hands, like they can't believe it's happening. I looked up at the tree-it's leaves ruffled, like it was approving the wedding. The orange, warm firelight danced as the colder, white moonlight washed everything around us.

I found myself smiling at the magic. I'll blame the wine later.

I didn't listen to the words, I didn't care for weddings. I just looked at their expressions, and looked around at the forest. Somehow the night was quiet. I could hear the party from the castle and out of it still. The smallfolk were celebrating too.

Jon's eyes landed on me, and I noticed it was quiet. Maybe it was my que.

I looked at Daenerys, and for the first time since I met her she looked a little bit… just a little bit vulnerable. She was still holding Jon's hand, and I guess that's the thing-loving someone is, among other thing, letting yourself being vulnerable near them. Let them see your soft side, your doubts in yourself, in your plans.

I really did smile this time, because I knew for sure it was love there. My heart can't break if I know Jon is in good hands.

Also, whatever. That guy is brooding and can't figure out ATMs. Or the Internet.

So I sang the song I chose. It wasn't the most original choice-just not a love song. I found a song I thought both Daenerys and Jon will connect to the words because… well, it's a song that gives you hope, and those two are the people that bring hope to their nation.

I knew John Lennon's words were too naive and sweet for Westeros's reality, but I didn't care. I knew that's the right thing to sing.

" _Imagine there's no heaven_

 _It's easy if you try_

 _No hell below us_

 _Above us only sky_

 _Imagine all the people living for today_

 _Imagine there's no countries_

 _It isn't hard to do_

 _Nothing to kill or die for_

 _And no religion too_

 _Imagine all the people living life in peace_

 _You may say I'm a dreamer_

 _But I'm not the only one_

 _I hope some day you'll join us_

 _And the world will be as one_

 _Imagine no possessions_

 _I wonder if you can_

 _No need for greed or hunger_

 _A brotherhood of man_

 _Imagine all the people sharing all the world_

 _You may say I'm a dreamer_

 _But I'm not the only one_

 _I hope some day you'll join us_

 _And the world will be as one"_

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Yep, I know. Imagine by the great John Lennon is not the most original choice, but I thought it's something Daenerys will appreciate.**

 **Geez, I hope she and Andie will get along.**

 **Anyway, let me know what you think,**

 **Bye for now**

 **~A Girl Had Many Names~**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I Know, I know. It's been a very long time since I updated. I had no time to write, and I'm trying to focus on my original stories now... Also, watching the final season didn't help my motivation either for many other reasons.**

 **But I always feel the commitment to finish what I have started. Love you all! Hope you'll enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

It doesn't matter how well the movies show them, how well written and edited are the scenes and how they are shot, war meetings are like watching paint dry.

They start interesting enough. All of the big names gather around a big table with a huge map. They say things that sound important, and look up to the rulers for the commands and answers. but in between the talks and declarations, there's nothing. Nothing for me, anyway.

I've never planned wars before-only small operations. When I look at Jon and Daenerys, I can't see myself a leader like them. They say their words with no doubt. Never second guessing themselves. Always looking at the bigger picture.

I was looking at the flames reflecting from Jaime's golden hand. I tried to keep myself awake after a long night of guarding the queen's door. She felt some contractions last night, but at the end didn't went into labor. It was tense.

Jaime looked back at me, catching my eyes with his, and I looked away, moving my tired stare to a Stark banner, hanging behind Jon Snow. He was listening to a knight of the Vale.

"Maybe you should get some rest, Andie." Missandei whispered in my ear.

"I should," I whispered back, "But after last night… I want to make sure she's ok." My eyes moved to Daenerys who sat across the table from Jon. Her hands placed on her swollen belly. It's going to happen soon, and the Army of the Dead is still somewhere out there, waiting. For what? I don't know. I don't care.

"Your Grace," Jorah said, "I still think we can try and kill the Night King himself. Like we saw, when you kill a Walker the wightes he turned are falling. The Night King is the right one to assume to create all of the undead. Maybe even the rest of the White Walkers."

Jon nodded and pressed his lips. "The Night King is unreachable by sword. The last time I saw him he was riding on the back of…" He shot a short glance to Daenerys, "The Ice Dragon, north of Winterfell. He's accompanied by his generals if he's not flying up in the sky. Maybe an arrow… but how will we find him?"

I started to feel restless and shifted my wight from one foot to another. It was like someone told me that it was _my_ mission. I have a long range weapon. The kind that is precise, and kills efficiently. Stronger than an arrow. Safer than a sword. Faster than anything a medieval world can offer.

My eyes met Jon's dark ones before I opened my mouth. He looked like he was begging me to shut up.

Like always, it didn't work.

"We can find him. We have good trackers and scouts… but how precise is an arrow in a long distance? How far away from the target can you be to get a clear shot?" Daenerys turned to look at me, knowing, like everyone else in this room, where I was going. "You all know I have weapons that world has never seen, you know how good I am-"

"A talented, well trained bowman can hit a target far enough, with a good backup and support." Jon said with a slight growl in his voice, like an older wolf threatening a puppy to stop being stupid. Then he turned to the rest of the room and resumed the talk.

Bloody hell he's not going to let me do anything, would he?

* * *

"Who wrote that song?" Daenerys asked me out of the blue. She had her swollen feet massaged by a maid. I stood at the corner of the large room, my eyes locked on the window. It was pretty large, and even though it had glass and everything, someone very determind could break in.

"John Lennon."

"Oh," I could hear the smile in her voice, "Another Jon."

"It's a pretty common name."

"Was he rewarded for this song? Did people listen, and created this world he sang about?" My eyes moved to her, "How did it go? 'Nothing to kill or die for'. I've never had that kind of peace."

I pressed my lips. "He was and still is a very famous, loved musician and writer. Also, he was murdered."

"Murdered?" Daenerys looked surprised. "What for?"

"Just by a madman. He… he was crazy. Unbaked. Cookoo. Lost his marbles."

"A man's life taken for insanity…" she seemed to think about it a little. "My father was mad, I've been told. How many lives were lost for men's madness?"

I didn't answer. I didn't want to keep talking about crazy people killing other people. My mind was somewhere else-it was somewhere between snow-covered hills, stalking and waiting for the Night King. With the bullets I have left, I would probably be able to make a clear shot. And at the back of my mid, those thoughts I was hushing, the negative feeling about the wedding, were getting louder. But denial, in times like the, is a useful tool. I shouldn't think about this.

I support Jon, right? Whatever and whomever he choses.

* * *

Later that day, at dinner, I watched Jon walk around soldiers and advisors. He tried to look well and upbeat, I believe, to keep the morals up. He even drank ale and had a laugh with Tormund, a rare thing to see lately. Jon is not a smiley face.

I drank my fair share of ale and wine as well. As much as I tried to be happy for Jon and Dany, my heart sank after the wedding and I had to fill the space left with alcohol.

Also, the whole thing about being under the threat of a cruel death floated in my mind.

A tall blond sat in front of me with a goblet full of wine. Jaime looked half drunk, and tired. "You said something about killing the Night King the other day," he slurred, "and your King didn't like that. He just shut you up, didn't he? I think he's the only person who can."

"Thanks, Jaime. I really needed to hear that." I said. "Do you have anymore information I already know you can tell me?"

"Well, I know you really _like_ the King. A very loyal subject."

"I'm not a subject, I'm an advisor. And a friend, mostly. And the Queen's bodyguard, I guess."

"I think," Jaime said, "That you and I can sneak out of this bloody grey castle and take that Night King before any more damage will happen." I looked at him, a bit surprised. He continued talking, "Of course, your _King_ said no, and you have to watch our beloved Dragon Queen. Maybe it's not such a good plan after all… also, my sword skills are nothing with my left hand." He was about to pick up his goblet but I took it from him. I took a huge gulp of wine as Jaime stared at me with owe. I am drunk. I am arrogant. I can't handle the thought of war anymore. I can't bare watching Jon being with someone else.

"Let's do this. Let's do this tonight."

* * *

I almost shook out of fear when I waited for Jaime in the courtyard. The scenes from the first time I encountered the wights came up the my mind. The death of Sandor and Pod and so many others. How does the White Walkers look like? Who does the Night King looks like?

Jaime met me near the armory, and we walked to the northern gate. The guards gave us suspicious looks, but opened it for us.

"What does he look like?" I asked as we walked to the Unsullied tents. I really did hope they won't notice us.

"Who?" Jaime asked, and I could hear how nervous he was in his voice.

"The Night King."

"I never saw him." Jaime said as we walked into the darkness, "But I suppose he's ugly, with blue eyes."

"Good. Now I know who to aim my guns at."

We stopped walking a few feet after crossing the Unsullied camp. The vast snow desert was silent, and dark. The stars and moon were hidden behind the clouds, and the forest was like a border that marked the place where everything started to be black.

Is it a bad idea? am I and Jaime both stupid to even try?

My fears sank in. The fear of death, of freezing, of being a brainless zombie. The fear of never seeing my friends again-Dakota and Sean, Zee and Mika and Karen. Not seeing Jon again, disappointing him. Causing him more sorrow and heartache.

We were two drunken assholes, thinking they can save the world.

I looked at Jaime and I felt like we both felt the same. but as I opened my mouth to speak, I heard footsteps coming behind us.

"Who are you?" the voice and the accent of an Unsullied soldier asked. I turned around to look at three soldiers and pressed my lips together. So that's how our little mission ended, before it even began.

* * *

"Are you out of your minds?!"

I hate feeling like a child. Jon was furious. I felt more than guilty, letting him down again and again and again. I just looked down at my feet, unable to look at him.

"Yes, we are, actually." Jaime said in his sassy voice, "We were out of our minds, because we are waiting here in the castle to be slaughtered when we have _her_." He gestured with his golden hand at me, "A great fighter. I saw what she can do with those weapons, and she's the best chance we have in defeating the Night King."

" _How_ exactly did you think only the both of you could find him while still being alive and breathing?"Jon asked, not taking Jaime's snarky voice.

"Well, we were about to turn back when logic hit us."

I didn't pay attention to the rest of the people in the room. I know Davos was there, maybe Arya too. But Jon was so angry his presence shadowed the rest. Then he caught my glance with his eyes. "Leave us," he said, and my heart started racing again.

When it was only me and Jon the the room, he didn't speak. I felt like he waited for me to talk, but I had nothing to say.

I looked at him, scared and ashamed, and sorry for being such a kid. I wanted to do this, I truely have. For a few hours, I believed it was possible.

"Jon, I-"

"Why?" He interrupted, "Why are you so, so stubborn?" Jon didn't sound as furious as before. He sounded tired. "Why won't you listen to me? Why are you trying to risk your life time after time, when all I want is you to be safe?"

I looked up to meet his eyes again, and my lower lip quivered. "Jon, I am so, so sorry." My voice was small, "I wasn't thinking. All I wanted was to end this war. Stop it from happening. I… I only…"

"And I want you to use your head." He said, "I can't afford losing you." I felt a tear rolling down my cheek. He sighed and came closer, wiping it away with his thumb. "You kept me safe in a world I didn't know, remember? i've told you that already. You said you will listen."

"I have." I said, trying to keep myself together. It started to be too much. I wanted to go home. I wanted to _feel_ home. And Jon being so close yet so fucking far away was terrible for me. I thought the wedding will make my feelings disappear, but it only gave me an excuse to deny them even farther.

"Then please, listen." Jon almost whispered as he cupped my face in his palms, "Listen to me, Andie."

That's it. That's fucking it. The moment where my brain stopped working, when it was too fucking much.

Without thinking, I had my hands in his hair and pulled him in for a long kiss.

Because I needed home. I needed to feel like I belonged _somewhere_ , _anywhere_. I needed to be touched, and loved, and just be. And in this dumb, irrational, probably regretful moment, I felt all that. Because he tasted like a forest and ice and fire and _home_. And he was the only one here that knew me, knew my world, inside and out.

Feeling him lean in was even better. It was something between and dance and a duel. It reminded me of the night back home where we camped and he tried to teach me how to swordfight. We got closer and closer. Who's going to draw back first and deal with the consequences? The embarrassment?

His hands went down to my lower back, and I could feel them even through all of the layers of clothing.

 _You're doing something wrong, girl._ My brain came back to life.

 _Shut up, brain._ The selfish devil on my shoulder said.

The only thing that stopped us, thank the gods, was a loud knock on the door. At first we didn't really hear it, as my fingers got more entangled in his soft hair, and his hot lips were really busy with mine, but when the knock was too loud to ignore we parted, almost in a frightened jump, because I was still trying to grasp my denial, even after _this_ , and we both knew it was wrong, very, very wrong. And he actually _kissed me back_ , for some reason. I always thought he loved Daenerys more than anything. This whole thing, it's my fault, isn't it?

"Come in," Jon called and we both avoided each other's eyes.

Some servants came in a rush ,"Your Grace." one breathed out, "The queen is giving birth."

* * *

I didn't look at Jon when we both almost ran down the halls to Daenerys quarters. In this situation, it was so easy to avoid each other.

As he ran through the doors, I stayed outside with the guards. I don't belong there. And now, the guilt I feel will be a hundred times worse after seeing the baby.

I had a long time to think as well. Now that I sobered up, I knew this is something that will never happen again. Nope. It's too uncool. I'll be back to denial as fast as a goddamn cheetah.

After three, maybe four hours waiting, the doors flung open and a maid stepped outside with rosy cheeks and a huge smile. "A baby girl!" she proclaimed. "The queen has given birth to a healthy princess!"

The people who gathered in the hallway cheered loudly. Someone shouted they should drink whatever wine was left in the castle. Someone else said they should make the queen a feast only for her to eat, so she can have her strength back.

Then the voices died out when Jon stepped outside the room, smiling, but exhausted. "Please, my lords. my ladies. We are flattered by your love, but please, our Queen needs a rest more than anyth-"

The sound that stopped Jon was something no one wanted to hear. It was sharp and clear, and badly timed. Everyone froze in their place, as the sound of the horns declaring the enemy's armies are surrounding the castle sliced through the air.

My eyes jumped to Jon, almost like an instinct, and I saw him giving me the same look back. He nodded, and I nodded back.

I ran into Daenerys room as chaos erupted, knowing that maybe that short exchange of looks will be our last, and that bittersweet regretful kiss we shared will be the last memory of us together.


	14. Chapter 14: Country Roads

**A/N:**

 **Hey there! That chapter's going to have many different short POVs, because that's how I was imagining this battle. I took some inspiration from the way the show did the Battle of Winterfell, but it's not going to be the same thing...**

 **Hope you'll enjoy it!**

 **~A Girl Had Many Names~**

* * *

Every muscle in my body was tense as I stood in the room and looked around me.

At the doors stood four Unsullied soldiers. Ten more lined each wall. Three maids stood near the big bed, where Daenerys cradled a tiny, moving bundle of cloth. I saw the baby's tiny hand stretched out of the blanket.

 _A healthy princess, born into a very ill world._

I could see Daenerys looking into the void, thinking, trying to figure out what to do now. They need her out there, aren't they? The people, the dragons. But she's torn and exhausted, and someone else needs her now.

I watched Daenerys look down to her newborn daughter, cold sweat still on her forehead, as she leaned in to give her a kiss.

And the only thing I could hear now, was silence.

* * *

Sansa was afraid. She knew fear very well, but this time, fear was different. It was larger, somehow. She didn't know what she was about to face. What do the eights look like? How do they sound? Smell?

She knew she can't fight. She can't protect herself, let alone her people.

"Go to the Great Hall," Arya said. They were both standing on the walls. "Stay with Bran and the rest. You'll have guards there. It's safer than standing here."

"No place is safe." Sansa said, still looking at the vast darkness that almost concealed Winterfell. She looked to her side to find Arya's eyes, cool and calculated.

"I only said it's safer. Take this," her sister handed her a dragonglass knife, "and get to the Great Hall."

Sansa nodded and took the knife. "How do I use it?"

Arya had a little smile on her lips, "Stick 'em with the pointy end."

* * *

Jon climbed on Rhaegal's back While Drogon was already in the sky. It's like he knew something was going on without Daenerys riding him.

He should've felt guilt for what happened with Andie before, but he didn't even know what to make of that. Also, he didn't really think about the kiss or his mixed feelings and barely about Daenerys. He was thinking about his daughter. He held her for only few minutes, and already felt the devotion and uncontrollable love a parent has. She was small, nameless, didn't even open her eyes, but she was the first things he could think about. He wanted her to live, to grow, to be wise and strong and loved.

Jon held on to Rhaegal harder as the dragon shot to the sky, ready to fight whatever threat was coming their way.

* * *

I kept looking around the room, then through the window. There was nothing outside. Only darkness.

A maid came up to me and whispered in my ear, "The birth was not easy to her Grace," she said gently, "She lost blood and strength. I advise her to rest and stay away from the fight."

I nodded and dismissed the maid. It was already clear to me Daenerys shouldn't fight, but knowing she lost blood… I'm glad the maester here knows how to take care of people. I'm glad the queen is alive.

Daenerys looked up at me from her bed and signed me to come to her. In a closer look, the bed was messy. I could see some blood stains on the sheets. I guess the majority of the mess was cleaned.

I stood in front of her. "Your Grace," I said. "How are you?"

Daenerys gave me a bitter smile, then looked down again at the baby. "It wasn't as bad as the first time I gave birth," she said in a bit of a monotone, somehow dreamy voice.

I felt like an idiot, but I asked anyways. "When you gave birth to the dragons?"

Her smile seemed less bitter now, more amused. "When my children were born, it was the greatest, most powerful and magical event in my life. I will never forget stepping into the fire, never burning, hugging the eggs close to my body through the night…" she drifted off a little, "But no, that was not the first time I gave birth. I was pregnant, from my first husband. The child died in my belly, so they say."

I bit the inside of my cheeks. "I am very sorry to hear that, Daenerys." She looked back up, surprised I called her in her first name.

"Sit with me," she almost whispered, her voice was a bit shaky. I guess she didn't want her soldiers to hear her like that. I sat next to her, but kept a bit of a distance. "If something will happen tonight," she said, "If _they_ get here…" Daenerys looked down again, "Don't protect the doors, don't protect the maids, don't protect the people, don't protect _me_ …" she handed me the little bundle of cloth, " _save her_. Take her, take her far where nothing can reach her but the sun."

I wasn't sure I can hold a _baby_ , not now and not ever. I've never done that before, but Daenerys eyes were begging. I held out my arms, and suddenly the almost weightless living bundle was in them, wiggling softly.

I never liked human babies. Far superior in cuteness to kittens and puppy, or in andurance like baby sharks and baby alligators. I looked down in the first time to look at Jon and Daenerys' daughter. She was pink and tiny, and looked a bit like an alien. Her head had little strands of hair on it-dark, black hair, with a light silver tiny almost invisible strand near the forehead.

I wasn't sure how to feel or react when she clasped my finger with her tiny palm. It was a cliche, but I've never felt this feeling before. She wasn't pretty, or strong, or fiesty, or anything. But I felt strongly for her, and knew I will let no one hurt her.

Then I heard gasps coming from the maids, and the Unsullied around the room shifted and became even more tense. I handed the princess to Daenerys to stand up and walked to the window without a word.

Outside wasn't dark anymore. Flames-huge, scary waves of fire, shot from the skies to the ground, and this is how I knew the fight had started.

* * *

Arya heard the fight from the walls. It was too dark to see it.

And then, the dragons' fire shot from the skies in mesmerizing show of light and flames-Arya never saw flames so big. The flames lighted, here and there, parts of the battle field, but it was still impossible to see what was going on out there.

She clutched her bow and stepped closer to the edge, and then she heard the shouts, the clashing of weapons, the screams, and mostly… it wasn't clear what it was. An earthquake? A landslide? A Thousand, no, a hundred thousand hissing and shrieking voices. Something she never heard before.

It seemed the sound and darkness consumed everything it touched.

* * *

It was quiet in the Great Hall.

Sansa looked around the children and women, the elderly and sickly. Missandei stood stiffly in a corner. The soldiers who protected them were few. The people who were strong enough to fight had to be out there.

Sansa tried to remember a way out in time of need. There was a tunnel not too far away they could go into, it led to the woods south of the castle, but went through the crypts. Jon said the Night King can raise the dead. The crypts wouldn't be a smart choice, but might be the only escape towards… well, something. Somewhere that might be safer.

But now, nothing happened. They couldn't hear anything from the outside.

Sansa looked at Bran, who was numb as he always was since they reunited. "What is happening?" She asked. Then her little brother's eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he wondered away, into the fight.

* * *

Bran warged into a raven and flown above the battle-it was more of a massacre. The dead didn't stop, even though the living gave them a worthy fight. He followed the dragons, then dove down to the battlefield to watch the fighters drawback, one step, two steps.. then they ran. They ran screaming, shouting to their friends to run back to the castle. Will the walls be a safe haven? He didn't think so.

He could smells the rotting flesh of the wights, he could smell the freshly spilled blood of the brave men and women fighting. He smells the bodies burning in the dragons' fire.

And from far, far away, he could feel _him_. The Night King was on his way to Winterfell.

* * *

When they started piling up and climbing the walls, Jaime caught Brienne's eyes. He fought next to her out on the field, and knew the odds were not in their favor.

As he stabbed another blue eyed corpse he shouted to her, "The Stark girls!" he knew that was what she cared about, "The Great Hall!"

He wondered for so long if he will see his sister among those monsters. As he and Brienne fought their way to the Great Hall of Winterfell, he tried to find the familiar face of his past lover. But she wasn't there. He didn't see her at all, there were only more blue eyed corpses charging at him brainlessly.

Brienne fought like the great knights she always wanted to be, shouting in anguish and slicing through the dead. When they got to the Great Hall, they saw it was too late-the wights already broke parts of the doors. Will the people inside be able to protect themselves?

Looking to Brienne again, he saw she looked in a different direction. Following her eyes, he saw Arya stark fighting. She had the skills of, well, many great fighters around the world, from what Jaime could see. The girl was a killing machine. She made her way somewhere as well, and they both followed her, barely able to move in the crowded battle around them. A wight almost cut Jaime with a rusty sword, yet Brienne somehow got to him and killed the… hoe does Andie calls them? _Zombies_.

The two of them got to Arya and a few more soldiers to face the doors of the crypts.

"My brother and sister are not in the Great Hall," she said, "I don't think they're dead. I think they tried to escape through the tunnels."

And with that, they opened the heavy doors while still fighting and fending away the Dead, closing the doors behind them.

* * *

Jon wasn't thinking at all. He felt Rhaegal, and they fought together as one.

It was cold up there, and a storm was coming from north. It became harder to breathe and see or hear anything. They dove down, and that's when he heard it. The dragon's wail.

Not like Rhaegal's or Drogon's, but higher pitched and deafening. And then the bright blue light came after it.

Rhaegal dove under the blue flames, but Jon felt how hot they were, so close to him. They flown high above the clouds. Drogon was already there.

When Viserion shot up into the sky, Jon got a glimpse of the Night King. He felt the anger, almost like a ball of flames, boiling in his stomach, and this is where the fight started.

Drogon smashed into Viserion with sharp claws. Viserion bit Drogon's chest. Rhaegal came in to help and pushed Viserion to the side, and the two dragons disengaged.

Jon drew out his sword. holding on the Rhaegal with one hand. When VIserion attacked again, his claws almost cut Jon as Rhaegal bit back with sharp teeth. Jon could see the Night King above him with his eyes spears, aiming one at Rhaegal's head.

Jon was about to scream, to let out a battle cry, to do something crazy-but Drogon pushed Viserion in such force, Rhaegal was pushed from the impact as well, and dove down fast to the ground.

Jon out his sword back as he clutched Rhaegal's spikes into his hands, not looking away from the dragon's back and pressing himself to the beast.

He felt the fast descent, wind blowing in his ears and hitting his face. The dragon crushing to the ground, and Jon was thrown away from him, rolling on the cold snow.

After a minute, he let out a breath a felt all of his limbs attached and unbroken. Somehow, he survived. Somehow, he stood up to see the Night King walking only fifty feet away from him in the field of dead bodies, walking unharmed to Winterfell.

Jon couldn't run yet, but he walked, walked fast. He took off his cape and drew out his sword. The Night King turned to him and stood there, expressionless.

Jon knew what was about to happen when his enemy started to raise his hands slowly. That was enough for him to lift his heavy legs and run, run to the blue eyed monster he wanted to kill. He wanted it to end. He wanted everyone, his daughter, his family, Andie and Daenerys, Tormund and Sam… he wanted them to live.

So he ran.

But he couldn't stop what was about to come.

* * *

As Jaime and the group he followed found the sick and old people of the north, the children and their mothers, Varys and Sansa and their guards, it seemed to him the group he thought was hiding in the Great Hall grew smaller. By the way the Lady of Winterfell looked, there were horrors in the hall he didn't want to hear of.

One of the guards was pushing Bran Stark in his wheelchair. Jaime swallowed as he saw the crippled boy, and knew it was his fault. Bran looked back to him, not saying a word.

The Stark sister had an unspoken conversation, and they walked in the same direction, leading them all through the tunnels.

After ten minutes of walking between the statues of dead Starks, Jaime heard and cracking stone. He looked at Brienne again, and they both turned to the source of the sound. Then there was another. The walls started cracking, and through the cracks came out the hands of the dead.

"Run!" Brienne yelled and stood in a fighting position. Jaime looked at Bran and his slow wheelchair.

He tried to kill him once, when he was an innocent boy. Jaime felt like he had to try and save him now. "My lord," he said, offering his help. Bran nodded. Jaime picked him up, even though he was a young man now, Jaime would carry him to safety, or at least try.

And then, they ran.

Jaime heard the now familiar voices of the dead behind them, in front of them, everywhere around them. It was going to be a long way.

* * *

The screams were unbearable. All I wanted to do was to get out and save people, but I gave my word to Jon, and I gave my word to Daenerys.

We all looked at the door, terrified. The maids had little dragonglass daggers, but it looked like they didn't know how to use them.

The unsullied looked ready, somehow not shaking as badly as I did. We were cornered. How can you _not_ be scared as fuck?

And then, when I though the shouts died out. I heard the window glass shatter, and a dead man's hand came through it.

* * *

Arya killed so many of them she lost count.

The group lost people on the way, most of them innocents, unable to fight. If she'll stop to think about every child dragged away by one of her dead ancestors, she won't be able to save the children that were still alive.

They passed the crypts, so the Dead were behind them now. The tunnels were made of dirt and they were old and crumbling, so it made her run even faster. Sansa was running beside her in her lady dress and long hair, trying to keep up with the dragonglass knife in her hand.

And then, they saw the moonlight coming from the opening, far away up at the end of a long stairway.

* * *

Jaime saw the moonlight through the exit, but the dead were not far behind and the old tunnel was crumbling. He could manage to run this far with bran on his back, but what good will it be if the dead will chase them outside and kill everyone in the forest?

While people started to climb up the stairs, Jaime looked at Brienne one last time.

"Take Lord Stark with you," he breathed out, "I'll try to hold them down."

" _Hold them down?_ Jaime, there is no way you can do that. They'll just kill you and move on."

"Yes, I believe so," he said, "But the walls are crumbling." A chunk of dirt fell from the ceiling just to prove his point. When the rumbling wave of wight came their way, there were more and more chunks of dirt and rock falling.

Brienne took Bran away from Jaime. The boy looked at him in wonder, "You're a brave man, Jaime Lannister." He said in his monotone voice.

Jaime's eyes went to Brienne's. Brienne nodded. "Thank you, Jaime. I will never forget you."

"No," Jaime said as he drew out his sword with his left hand, "Thank _you._ "

He turned to face the mob of wights as the last of the living human climbed up and out through the exit. He could feel the earth shaking as the wave crashed into him. almost knocking him off his feet. But he fought. He slashed and cut and stabbed everything around him, as he heard the ground above him crack. Jaime Lannister was ready to die for the things he believe in, for his sins, for his arrogance.

Then the ceiling collapsed, and all was dark.

* * *

It started with the window. And then, the door broke down as well.

The soldiers were the best, calmest warriors I've seen in my life, and all they had were rounded shields and dragonglass spears. Even the maids fought for their lives.

I shot in every direction I could. I took out wights far from me, and wights that came from behind as I made my way back to Daenerys side. She had her back to a corner, and the guards around. The baby cried in her arms, and she watched as her soldiers fell with horror. The maids came down in screams.

I changes another magazine quickly. The bodies piled up. It smelled awful, but I didn't pay much attention to it right now. The last Unsullied fell with a wave of wights rushing in.

I looked behind my shoulder to find Daenerys closing her eyes, with an almost calm expression. And when she opened them, a huge flame came through the window, killing and burning the wights that came through the door, and lighting up the room.

"Take her," Daenerys said. She looked like she was going to faint. I heard the batting og wings from the outside. "Now, Andie! Go!"

I couldn't do this. My legs turned into stone. "Daenerys, you have to come with me. You have to come and be a queen, a mother-"

"Look at me, Andie!" She snapped. "I will slow you down! I will put my child in danger!' The baby didn't stop crying. The flames grew bigger in the room. I looked at the fire in fear. Daenerys turned my face to her with her hand and forced me to look her in the eyes. "I will not burn. You will. She might." She said and anything but shoved her baby into my hands, still holding my face with one of her hands. "I know you love him," she had a softer voice now, "She's his as much as she's mine."

I pressed my lips and nodded as Daenerys let go of me. She looked at her baby one last time and leaned in to give her a long kiss on the forehead. "Through the window." She commanded as she straightened her back, standing like the queen she is and tearing a torch from the wall, ready to burn everything down.

"I hope we'll meet again," I said and pressed the baby closer to my body, to keep her warm and safe. Daenerys didn't say anything.

And then I ran. I jumped through the window with blind faith, hugging the tiny creature to my heart.

I didn't land in snow or into a pile of wights. I landed on the back of a dragon.

He was spiky, yet somehow smooth. And warm, so, so warm.

We soar into the sky, away from the smoke and death, into the bright moonlight.

* * *

Daenerys' clothed burned away as she stood in the flames, ready for anything. The wights didn't come through the door or window for a while now.

She was weak, and still suffered from the pain she had in her body. Giving birth was not an easy task.

When she thought she could rest and sit on the flaming floor, a figure came through the door. It wasn't human. It wasn't a wight. It was taller than most humans, with white-grey wrinkled skin and bright blue eyes. She knew him, she knew him from when he murdered one of her children.

Daenerys Stormborn aimed her torch at the Night King as he stepped through the flames, unscarthered. He stood in front of her and she felt herself shking. From the cold that radiated around him, from fear, from his almost-a-winning-smile.

She looked into his eyes and knew she couldn't fight him, even if she was in a good shape. Daenerys gave him her most hateful look, never tearing her eyes from his, ready to die.

The Night King touched her cheek with one finger, and every part of her body felt like it was turning into ice.

* * *

The baby calmed down. She didn't cry anymore. It was quiet up here. as if the battle ended. Maybe it did?

The screams of the Ice Dragon made me understand it wasn't over. I ducked as it tried to reach me with its claws.

Drogon shrieked and flew higher, then attacked his dead brother. He bit his neck with savage movements as I held hard to his back.

It was a fight of claws and teeth, sharp and huge and scary. The dragons were so fucking huge up close.

Then the flame came, and I thought this is how I am going to die. Burnt alive by blue fire on a dragon's back.

The blue flame almost burnt Drogon's tail and he wailed loudly and sped up. The baby started crying again, reminding me she's here too. I shielded her while the crazy dragon fight was happening, and had no idea what to do. They were moving too fast-I couldn't hold a baby with one hand and try to stay on a dragon's back using another, while a different dragon is attacking us. Shit, I never thought I'll think that in my life.

We need a way out.

We need a way out.

 _We need a way out_ -

" _Country roads, take me home. To the place where I belong."_

Where the fuck did this country music come from? I blinked in confusion as the song kept playing from my pocket.

My pocket… wait, was that my _dead battery phone?_

I pressed my lips, not sure of it. But if my song started playing random country songs…

I pulled it out of my pocket and held it in my hand, watching the glowing scream in wonder.

The Viserion crashed into us and I fell off Drogon's back, hugging tightly the princess in one hand as my phone kept playing. I closed my eyes shut as we shot down from the sky, hoping like an idiot that maybe the snow down there is as soft as it looks.

* * *

Jon walked into Winterfell after fighting his way through.

The castle was quiet. The survivors walked around, shocked, scarred, injured. Piles of bodies replaced the piles of snow. The Dead just turned and walked somewhere else. Jon couldn't understand them, but he didn't care. Especially not now.

He was hurt. but still ran up the stairs to Daenerys' chambers.

The door was down. It smelled like smoke and burned bodies. He walked inside to find the room burned and covered in ashed, with no sign of Daeners. or Andie, or his newborn daughter.

Jon fell down on his knees, feeling more lost than he felt in a long, long time.

* * *

I was ready for it. I was ready to suffer to impact of hitting the ground, hopefully saving that tiny creature in my hands. Hopeful good human will find us before she'll die. Maybe even wolves will be cool enough to take care of her like Mugly, or Drogon will find us. I closed my eyes and bit my lip.

But no.

I've found myself on a hard ground, as if I stood there all along. I didn't dare to open my eyes just yet.

The wind didn't blow in my ears. It wasn't freezing around me. The sound I have heard was familiar, but I didn't hear it for so long.

I slowly opened my eyes to find myself and the baby in my arms, inside a very familiar place. I know that white and blue checkered floor. I know those pots and and hanging over my head. And I know that women, wearing a green raincoat, with a short brown hair. She dropped a cat food can and looked at me with wide eyes and shock.

The sound I have heard were cars, helicopters, the subway underneath. The things that used to be my background, but now seemed loud and very present. It was the sound of New York City

"Karen?" "Andie?!"

We asked at the same time.

And then my head felt light. I shoved the poor little human into my trusty boss's hands before I hit the floor and everything went black.


End file.
